All In (4 page)

If you lived in The Hollow, you were limited to your
own kind. That’s just the way it was. If you didn’t find love or companionship
on the inside, then you were alone.
Is
that why he wanted to leave?

Her mother never gave a rat’s ass. Cara wondered if
her mother even realized that she was gone. Her mind returned to something brighter,
the way Mick’s hand had felt in hers, strong and stable, how their fingers fit
as if tailor-made.

Mick had never really touched her much in all the
years they’d been friends. Only a gesture of platonic affection during her
times of frustration or on her birthday. Would she ever want more from him? She’d
never considered it.

The only intimate experience she’d ever had hadn’t
been pleasant. Before the evil image of that night came together, Cara directed
her musings down another, more favorable road. As the notion formed, the
physical ache that lingered in the pit of her belly slowly woke up, yawning and
yearning. It was an ache that Cara could only ever nourish through fiction.

Down
and Dirty.
Tim and Erin.

Cara got up and rummaged in her pack, pulling out
the tattered paperback. She didn’t know how long she had to read, but she
settled back on the bed and dove in.

****

“Here?” Erin gasped as Tim’s hands roved over her
body in the dark closet. The brush of coarse wool scratched over her skin, the
hangers clinking on either side of them. Tim pushed back on the weighted
garments, wanting more room.

“Oh, yeah,” Tim whispered. His breaths blew hot on
her neck before searing teeth closed on her flesh. Dampness collected between
her thighs.

They were attending his cousin’s wedding, the cake
about to be wheeled out onto the floor.

“It’s the thrill of getting caught. It just makes it
all the hotter,” Tim said, his tone gruff with need.

He pulled up her dress. Tim’s fingers trailed up her
thigh, scoring through her as he impatiently yanked her thong out of his way.

“Spread your legs wider.” His fingers pressed on her
hot folds, searching for her clit. As he rubbed his thumb over the sensitive
nub, his cock nudged at her slick entrance.
“Going in.”
He huffed, thrusting his hips. A dull thud sounded as Tim slammed her body
against the wall. He gripped her legs, hoisting her up. Her spine met the sheetrock,
cooling the line of fire that’d ignited up her spine.

“Ah, God!”
Tim
growled. His chest rumbled against hers. Liquor-laced breaths hit her face as
his stiff, stretched flesh knifed through her. He was painfully hard, sliding
into her depths before her walls could accommodate him. “So good, tilt your
hips a bit,” his request ground out between clenched teeth.

Erin tipped her hips, meeting the sleek underside of
his cock as it reamed in and out of her pussy. Explosive jolts of pleasure shot
through her belly. Her legs dangled around his hips like withering vines.

“Yeah, baby, right there … I’m coming, blowing a
load that’s all for you.” His voice sounded hoarse, his chest heaving.

Erin swept the damp strands of hair out of Tim’s
eyes, his gaze wide, his eyes glossed with gratification. Tim’s hand pushed
between their bodies. His touch zeroed in on her clit. The pads of his fingers
swirled over her sweet spot. A shrilling whine spilled from her mouth.

Tim’s mouth crushed into hers, silencing her cries
as their bodies rocked, absorbing every contraction of a shared orgasm that
raged.

****

A pounding thundered through her fictitious stage. Cara
jumped off the bed, burying her book deep into the bottom of her pack, her
heart fluttering between her ribs.

“Cara,” Mick called. “Burgers are getting cold.”

Chapter
Seven

Mick reclined back on the bed, the TV muted. Cara
slept soundly on the other bed, having dozed off shortly after a full, hot
meal. He tried to distract himself, but his evil intruder continuously yanked
him back, dousing him with the cold reality that his plan had some weak spots
that he needed to tweak, and fast.

They needed more money. Mick knew where he wanted to
eventually settle. He hadn’t discussed this with Cara. He didn’t want to
overload her all at once. It was making it to their destination without living
like they’d had to back home that kept him awake with worry. If he couldn’t
make it better, then what was the point?

Mick wanted to plant roots in southern New Jersey.
He wanted to be near the sea. He wanted to smell the damp, salty surf and gorge
on all the summertime concessions that the boardwalk amusements would provide. He’d
always loved the ocean, ever since his parents had taken him and his brother to
Sea Isle City.

It was a fluke of a vacation. Someone his father
worked with had offered them the house for free. How that transpired, Mick had
been too young to recall. It was the one bright memory of his childhood and he’d
never forgotten. That was before his brother excelled at basketball, expecting
the family to build their lives around his dream.

They could get jobs and hopefully live in the same
space, and maybe even share the same bed. Mick’s flesh tingled with the
thought.

Cara looked so peaceful, sprawled across the width
of the mattress. Her hair was loose, streaming across the pillow like golden
grass. Her chest rose in deep, even breaths. The thin, putrid-green bedspread
covered the curved lines of her supple body, flesh he wanted to put his hands
and mouth on.

A whirl of heat began to spin in his groin like a
relentless funnel cloud. Mick licked his lips, feeling his cock sprout in his
pants. The things he wanted to do to her and show her. After years of an
imagination running wild, being in such close quarters with her definitely tested
him.

Mick crawled off the bed and grabbed his coat. He’d
spotted several vending machines and an ice machine down at the end of
corridor. He needed a cool-down, so he stepped out into the cold, night air,
safely locking Cara inside.

He made his way down the open corridor. Lines of
lights slowly snaked over the horizon, the interstate still busy. Mick glanced
down into the parking lot, seeing a few cars parked, their trunks open.

“That’s fucking bullshit! I was counting on you.
We’re supposed to open in five days.” Mick gave a curt nod as he passed by an
aggravated stranger to gain access to the coffee machine. He dropped his change
in and made his selection. The angry one-sided conversation carried through the
dark night air as Mick waited for his coffee. He set the steaming cup down and
got Cara a hot chocolate, her favorite beverage.

“For fuck’s sake!”

Mick turned, meeting a pair of gleaming eyes.

“Sorry.” The stranger raised his hand. “You can’t count
on anybody these days,” he said through huffing breaths. He flipped his cell
phone closed, shoving it into the top pocket of his shirt. “Nobody gives a
shit, man.” He shook his head in disgust. He took a cigarette out of his pocket,
lighting the end. Angry lines of smoke shot out of his nose, clouding the air
between them.

Mick sipped his coffee, feeling awkward and unsure
of how he should respond.

“Sounds like someone left you high and dry? I’m
sorry…” Mick scrambled, now trying to assess the situation. His new
acquaintance came to his aid.

“I’m opening up my own business in five fucking days,
and this so-called friend of my brother’s was supposed to help me. Now I’m
screwed. I need manpower.”

“Um … well, maybe I could give you a hand,” Mick said,
treading cautiously. “I wasn’t planning on being here long, but if there’s a
way I could make some extra cash, I’m willing to help.” This would give him the
chance to recoup the funds he’d spent for Cara’s urgent care.

“No shit,” the man laughed. A shrewd grin tugged at
his mouth, his facial expression now relaxing.
“Name’s Barry
Edgewater.”

“Mick
Terrel
.”
Mick
reached for his hand. After the brief exchange, Barry explained what he’d need
Mick to do. Mick informed Barry that he was only staying in town for a day or
two because the cost of the room would set him back. The idea was to make
money, not lose more, but when Barry offered to pay the tab for Mick and Cara’s
room, it appeared that Barry was desperate.

“I even booked a room here for that son-of-a-bitch. He
kept bitching and moaning that he couldn’t stay at my place because of his
allergies. I have two dogs… Damn asshole.” Barry sighed, shaking his head. He
turned his back, taking one last drag off his cigarette, tossing the butt into
the night air. “I knew when I asked for him at the desk and they looked at me
like I had ten heads that he’d screwed me over,” he told Mick, glancing back at
him.

“I’m glad to help. Like I said, I could use the
money. I just don’t have a car,” Mick said. A twinge of ineptness crept over
him.

“No problem. I’ll swing by in the morning and pick
you up.
How’s
seven sharp?” Barry asked, running a
hand through a mop of tousled blonde hair. “Need to get an early start.”

“I’ll meet you right down there,” Mick told him,
pointing to the front entrance down below.

“Great,” Barry smiled. “What a relief. What room are
you in? I’ll go take care of the tab right now.”

“I’m in 209, and hey … thanks,” Mick smiled, savoring
the relief that was now calming his previously tormented insides. “This cup of
coffee tastes so much better now.”

The men laughed, shaking hands again. Mick returned
to the room, a bit lighter on his feet.

****

Cara woke up to the flickering glow of a muted TV. She
sat up, seeing Mick’s bed rumpled but vacant. She stood up, feeling a wave of
uncertainty. Just then she heard the lock turn in the door.

A gust of cold air swooshed into the room as Mick
balanced the two paper cups and closed the door, locking it behind him.

“What happened? Where were you?” Cara accepted the
cup he held out to her.

“I just ventured out for some coffee, thought you’d
want a hot chocolate,” he said, removing his coat and hat. “It looks like we’ll
be holed up here for a few days. You okay with that?” Mick asked.

“Sure. I guess. Why, what’s going on?” Cara peeled
the plastic lid back. “Is everything all right?” Her stomach tensed. They’d had
enough setbacks so far.

“Oh yeah,” Mick smiled. “This is good. I got a job
and our room’s paid for in full,” he told her, raising his cup in a toast.

Chapter
Eight

“It is?” Cara sat back down on the bed, dumbfounded.
She was trying to decipher the pleased look that had softened the often tight
lines of Mick’s face.

“It’s the weirdest thing, but hey … shit happens for
a reason,” he said, laughing as he sat down next to her. His scent swarmed around
them. It was cool and crisp as the fresh, night air escaped from his clothes,
the heat of the room seasoning him.

Mick ran through the series of events that transpired
while getting their beverages.

“Wow, that’s great. Is there anything I can do to
help out?” Cara asked.

“Yeah,” Mick grinned. “Maybe you could walk down and
visit me during my lunch break or something. Barry mentioned that his new
business isn’t far from here, some eatery or something.”

Mick’s eyes rested on hers, holding her gaze. Cara
gripped her cup, feeling her breath still inside her lungs. His expression was
peculiar, not one of the usual looks he often wore.

“Ah, okay.” Cara chuckled. “I’ll come down. I just
wanted to try and help out with the
medical expenses, that’s
all,” she said. She suddenly felt nervous and wasn’t sure why. Mick’s gruff
tone broke through.

“You’ll have plenty of time to work later. You have
to let your arm heal,” he said, running a hand over his head. Mick’s hair was
growing in, his scalp covered with a thin coating of dark growth. Cara wondered
how long he would let it grow out before buying clippers. “I need a shower. Barry’s
picking me up out front at about seven tomorrow morning, so…” His words
stalled. Cara stood and claimed a chair at the small table.

“Okay, well, I’m taking one tomorrow. My hair’s
starting to stink,” she told him, feeling her lips press together.

“I don’t smell anything on you that I shouldn’t.”
Mick turned, his eyes pinning her again. Cara laughed, fussing with the lid of
her hot chocolate, fighting a reserve that felt odd.

His feet scuffed across the carpeting as he strolled
to the bathroom, closing the door. The fan kicked on, then the sounds of spraying
water.

Cara sat back in the chair, trying to follow a TV
show that’d been muted for the entire episode. The mere thought of Mick being
behind that door, naked and washing his body under a torrent of soapy water,
had her unable to concentrate on much else.

Flames of bashful heat filled her cheeks. Cara shook
her head abruptly, attempting to shrug off the notion, but her imagination was
unyielding.