Dinner tonight is relaxed, and in that way it's also strange, adding to the surreal nature of the past few days. We decide to barbecue, since Jackson's feeling a little bit better, stumping around the dooryard with BA on his shoulders, while Carson and I get the fire going.

“Okay, side effect of becoming a fitness fanatic along with Katrina,” he complains good-naturedly while Carson squirts the briquettes with starter fluid. After they're going, we'll add the chunks of wood that really makes barbecue special. “I'm hurt, I know I should be sitting on my butt and just chilling out for another few days, but I can't. I'm barely able to control my energy as it is.”

“That's not being a fitness fanatic, that's you being an overgrown toddler,” I call over, and Carson laughs quietly. “Well, he is.”

“I can own up to that,” Jackson says without any hurt feelings. “How's the fire looking?”

“I'm about ready to burn off my eyebrows,” Carson says, finishing his squirting. “You ready, Andrea?”

“Actually, I kinda like your eyebrows,” I joke, pushing him back. “Let me.”

I use a stick from the wood pile to start the fire, which does start with a massive floomp and even a bit of a mushroom cloud of flame. “Whoa. Someone call the EPA.”

“Hey, be glad I didn't use gasoline, but the gel stuff,” Carson jokes, watching as the flames subside a bit and the fire starts to calm down some. “Nice idea with the stick.”

“I'd prefer to keep us from getting any more injuries,” I reply, tracing my thumb along the cut on my jawline. I know it's healing, since it itches nonstop, which is irritating, but I can't stop myself even though I shouldn't be touching it. I see the mark every time I look in the mirror, and all I can can do is imagine how it's going to scar.

Carson notices, and takes my wrist in his hand, pulling it away gently. His injuries have faded as well, and while his cheekbone is still cracked, the swelling and bruising have faded for the most part, the purpling gone down to just a light sickly yellow under his left eye. “It doesn't matter.”

“The hell it doesn't,” I grumble, wishing I could look at it in a mirror. “Four inch long cuts to the face matter. A lot.”

Carson pulls me in closer, wrapping his arms around me and talking softly in my ear. “No, it doesn't, my love. The cut could have taken out one of your perfect, amazing eyes, and it wouldn't change what I feel.”

“Feels good to say that in public, doesn't it?” I ask, smiling. He nods, and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly. “That feels even better.”

“Hey, there's immature children here!” Jackson protests with a laughing jeer, starting another lap of the dooryard.

“Yeah, that's why we have BA watching you,” Carson replies, chuckling. “Hey Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being cool with this.”

Jackson stops his laps and comes over, looking Carson in the eyes. With a slightly pained grunt he lifts BA off his shoulders and hands her to me before putting his hands on Carson's shoulders. “You are a good man, from everything I've seen. I like you, Carson. And some day, maybe I can honestly call you my brother, I've never had one and I'd like that. But, and I'm saying this knowing that Andrea's right here... she's my sister. You hurt her, at least intentionally, and you'll find that I’ve become protective of my sister.”

Most men I know would be intimidated by Jackson's words. Even with a broken leg and broken ribs, Jackson's an intimidating figure, with his hundred and ninety five or so pounds spread out powerfully on his frame, and hardly an extra ounce of fat on him even after four days of mostly sitting around despite his extra energy. Carson though doesn't flinch, and instead puts his hands on Jackson's shoulders, the two most important men in my life staring eye to eye. “I promise you Jackson, it will never, ever happen.”

Jackson nods, and pats Carson on the shoulders. “I figured as much. But I had to be clear, know what I mean?”

“I know. Now, let's get some food ready.”

After cooking up a mountain of pork chops, hamburgers, and a salad for everyone, we all sit around outside, enjoying the cool evening air. “So Melissa said that Nathan can probably come home tomorrow,” Carson says conversationally while munching on a piece of carrot from his salad. Katrina made sure we ate at least something nutritious, that's just the way she is. I don't mind the junk food, since two days of nothing but meal replacement shakes caused me to drop five pounds. “Think you guys can help me fix up one of the bedrooms for him?”

“Sure,” Jackson jokes, pushing away half of his plate. His eyes are much bigger than his stomach right now, and he's automatically adjusting how much he eats to keep himself in shape.“We can put in a canvas cot, a footlocker, and two tons of tea.”

“Actually,” I counter, chewing my burger with pleasure, “I was thinking we can find out about helping him recreate his tea collection here. I don't know if he's got it stashed away somewhere else, but he's got to be feenin' for a good Earl Grey or something. Jackson, you remember his tea corner from the old house?”

“Corner?” Jackson asks with a smile. “He spoiled me with it, and that was more than a corner. I mean seriously, did you even know there was a hundred and eight different kinds of tea before meeting Nathan?”

I shake my head, thinking back to the first time I was allowed into Nathan's workshop, when I was eight years old. It was another seven years after that before he offered me a cup of tea, five years before he offered any to Jackson, a little fact that I hold secretly precious. While right up until the end I kept my actions against Peter a secret from Nathan, I still recognized the man for what he was. “Not before, but I was thinking we could put together a rack for him. Say, start at something that can hold fifty teas or so? That electronic water heater he had, that can't be too expensive, right?”

“Who knows? Honestly though, who cares?” Carson asks seriously. “I guess we haven't talked about it in dollars and cents before, but let's put it on the table. Katrina, Jackson, you guys have?”

Katrina thinks, then shrugs. “Maybe a hundred and fifty thousand from what we took from Peter. Opening the dojo was expensive, but that hundred and fifty, it's secure. Jackson's learned a lot about investing thanks to Andrea, and we're relatively secure. It's a well-invested nest egg that's turning a profit for us.”

Carson nods, then looks at me. “And you... I know most of what you had was that bag of gems that Peter took back when he got your apartment.”

I nod, not ashamed. “I can make it though, Carson. You know that.”

Carson chuckles and nods. “I know. And I'm sure Nathan's got money socked away in a bunch of different places too, so I'm not worried about him. Okay, well, on to me and 'Lissa. We have joint accounts, by the way. What's mine is hers, despite what some will says. To hell with them, she was a good daughter who didn't deserve the pain she's been put through her whole life. The farm's free and clear, but I have no idea what it's worth outside the check I cut the MCS accountant for the property taxes. I do know how much we've got in our personal accounts, and what MCS is worth.”

“How much?” Jackson asks, and Carson taps the porch, thinking. “What?”

“Roughly fifty-two million dollars.”

I drop the remains of my hamburger, stunned. “Fifty-two million?”

Carson nods. “I inherited a lot more than that, and it grew in a blind trust until I turned eighteen. Most of it is still sitting in that trust. I took out what I needed to fund Melissa's art. I knew she had a voice, a vision that needed to be shared with the world. It's been lucrative since, and we live simply enough.”

“I'll say,” Katrina says in admiration. “I don't know any other man with fifty million in his bank accounts who's driving a three-year-old pickup.”

Carson shrugs, looking over at me. “I find there are things a lot more important than money, guys. I guess what I'm saying is, whatever we need to take care of protecting our family from Peter's BS, and whatever we need to make sure our family is set up for the future, we've got it.”

“Think you can buy an Iron Man suit?” Jackson asks after a minute. “I'd love one of those for the next idiot that Peter could send against us. By the way, you said that Orloff was wearing a vest?”

“Not quite a vest,” I explain, thinking back. “He'd taken the hard plates from normal vests, and attached them to the inside of the coat he was wearing. It stopped penetration of the rounds, but didn't dull the energy, which is why it hurt like hell at first.”

“I bet it did,” Katrina says, shaking her head. “I can see why he did it, too. Buying a vest in a lot of areas requires a background check.”

I look over at Katrina, arching an eyebrow. “You look like you wish you had another crack at this guy.”

Katrina shakes her head, then looks out at the barn. “Actually, I was thinking I've gotten a bit lazy with my training. When we get back to Baton Rouge, I'm going to get serious again.”

Jackson groans melodramatically, shaking his head. “I won't even have a chance to get out of the cast I'm in now before something else gets hurt.”

We all laugh, but I feel sad. “So you guys are going to go back to Baton Rouge?”

Katrina nods. “Not like we were before, hiding our location from you though. Just, making our way, and I was thinking, we can set up a fallback location in case things go bad here. Besides, with that sexy new van we've got, we've got a good way to get down here all the time. It's only an hour or so. Weekend visits are looking very good right now.”

Carson shakes his head. “On one condition.”

“What's that?” Katrina asks, and Carson smiles.

“Simple. We alternate weekends.”

Jackson and Katrina look at each other, then grin. “Deal.”

* * *

“That was nice of you to get them to agree to weekend visits,” I tell Carson later as we lie in bed. It's exciting, but also we're both nervous. Last time, it was a lucky accident that we ended up in bed together, and for the past four nights since coming back from the clinic I've intentionally slept in my own room, because we knew we couldn't trust ourselves to not end up ripping open my cut. “I appreciate it.”

“It was for me, too,” Carson says, smiling as he gets something from his bathroom and comes in. He's changed clothes, and is wearing just a pair of pajama pants, his lean, lithe body nearly glowing in the soft bedroom lights. “This I've had a while, but tonight, it's especially for you.”

Carson shows me what he has in his hands, a mostly full bottle of massage oil that says its from the South Pacific. Uncapping it, he wafts it under my nose, and I get the essence of warmth and spicy fruits, if that makes sense. “Ah, my Lothario is equipped.”

Carson chuckles and caps the oil. “Actually, it was a gift from Melissa. Last Christmas, I'd tried to see someone, and she thought it'd be a fun little way to say she didn't have a problem with it. Unfortunately for the oil, I did, so we never got even close enough to show her that I had it.”

I chuckle and look at the oil level in the bottle. “So what is the missing oil from? Self-indulgence?”

“Not that sort,” Carson says with a smile, looking down when my gaze travels between his legs. “Actually, I pulled a muscle in my calf back in the spring.”

I hum and turn over onto my stomach, facing him. His hands start to rub at my back, thumbs finding every little knot, and I purr gratefully. “You're very good to me.”

“You don't always have to be, you know,” Carson replies, his fingers not stopping. “In fact, most of the time we're going to look a lot like other people in our relationship. I trust and value your judgment, intelligence and opinion.”

“Even art?” I ask playfully, looking out of the corner of my eye as Carson nods. “Great. Then next, can we ask Melissa to do a version of Dogs Playing Poker, or maybe Wolf Howling At The Moon?”

Carson grins, and smacks me on the butt, not too hard, but just right. “Mmm... you promised me a spanking last time, too.”

“So which would you like first, the massage or the spanking?” Carson asks, his eyes glowing when I pull my knees up and slide my pajama bottoms down. “I see.”

“Please, sir... it feels so good,” I plead softly. We made sure tonight that Katrina and Jackson are still downstairs, camped out on the sofa by their own choice, so we can have some privacy and be able to express ourselves without limits, but I still want to keep my voice down. “Please... spank me.”

“And then what? A massage?”

I shake my head, looking back at him. “After that... I'll be so wet I know what I'll need. I'll need you inside me. Not to make love, we can do that another time. But after the spanking, I need you to fuck me.”

Carson nods, and turns, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Then get over here. Show me what you like.”

I grin, getting up and pushing my pajama bottoms the rest of the way off, leaving me in just my t-shirt as I stretch out across Carson's lap. I can feel his cock pressing into my belly, already half-hard and quickly firming even more as he caresses my ass. I feel alive, thrilled, and loved. It's more intoxicating than any drug or drink in the world.

“Mmm, it's such a lovely light olive tone,” he muses before suddenly smacking my ass. Electricity jolts through me and I gasp, the warmth spreading as he rubs, each circle of his hand sending ripples through my body to concentrate on my pussy. “Although a little more pink would be nice temporarily.”

“Thank you, sir,” I moan, my breath catching in my chest when he lifts his hand, only to bring it down on the other side, rubbing gently again afterward. “Mmm, Carson... I love it.”

Carson's cock is rock hard underneath my belly as he spanks again, each stinging swat rubbed away to pure hot pleasure by gentle caresses after, until my entire body is trembling with desire. I can feel the moisture gathering inside of my thighs, and I only stop myself from rubbing my aching, fiery clit along his leg by sheer willpower and the desire to feel him inside me.

“Two more,” Carson says huskily, trembling on his own edge, but pushing himself and me to a higher level. “Just two more, then you can climb in my lap.”

I barely breathe as Carson spanks me two more times, the last time his hand slipping between my legs and rubbing at the lips of my pussy, causing me to moan deeply, pushing back into his hand. “Carson... oh yes, it's so good.”

“Amazing and perfect,” Carson says, lifting me off his lap and pushing his pants down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock and sitting back. I use the chance to pull my t-shirt off and swing my leg over him, feeling him already spreading me open even with just the head of his cock. “You control yourself this time.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, grinning. Sitting in his lap like this, I can look in his amazing eyes and see his face as I sink down on him, each inch as good as the first time, filling me and completing my soul as much as my body. I take him all in one long, amazing stroke, my eyes rolling back when my clit drags over his skin near the end. “Oh my God.”

“Fast and hard, right?” Carson asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “It's your ride.”

I grin in reply, seeing that even though he's trying to act like he's in control and just amused by my reaction, he's nearly as on edge as I am, and when I squeeze myself around him he moans softly, his own breath shuddering. “Fast and hard. We have all night for more.”

I lift up, sinking down again, both of us grunting at the feeling, and I start riding him. Carson bends his head down and captures my right nipple in his teeth, biting gently as I ride him, fireworks exploding in my eyes as every nerve inside me lights up. My thighs flex over and over as I lift and fall, burning as my passion pushes me on. I'm racked, torn apart by the pleasure as Carson holds me, letting go of my nipple to taste and kiss my neck while I ride him, his cock plunging into me and my clit exploding with every crashing thrust inside me as it grinds into the base of his cock.

Time loses all meaning as I plunge myself up and down, crying out in pleasure, not caring if Katrina and Jackson downstairs can hear me or not. Let them hear, let them be jealous that I'm with the perfect man, I don't care. I lose myself in the pleasure, the feeling of his hands on my skin, his lips kissing me, his cock filling me over and over.

“Yes...” Carson rumbles, his cock swelling inside me. I feel him on the edge, and with a deep grunt, he's coming, sending me on my own orgasm, the world spinning as I ride the wave.

We collapse, Carson falling back on the mattress, me on top of him, his cock still buried deep inside me, gasping for breath.

* * *

“How... how did you ever become so wonderful, so perfect for me?” Carson asks, finding the words and needing to get them out. “How could you have been made so, that I can open up my heart and myself fully to you so easily?”

“I ask myself the same thing about you,” I whisper, stroking his face and smiling. “I know you never asked me, but that was our second time, no condom.”

“I know,” Carson replies, holding me close. “Is that a problem?”

“Is it for you? I wouldn't be that upset if something comes of it. Surprised, but not upset.”

Carson hums, smiling. “I like that idea. I just wanted to be sure. For now though, I'm not done with you.”

“Oh?” I ask, my question drawing out as he kisses his way down my body. He pauses over my breasts, studying them carefully. “What?”

“Just... I want to burn every inch of you into my memory, to savor every instant with you.”

“Why?” I ask, touched and worried at the same time. “Carson, I'm not going anywhere. You're going to have a long time to make memories with me. If you let me, a lifetime's worth.”

“It's fast, and I’m not saying it’s what I want right this second. But I’ve been thinking since this afternoon about the way Jackson and Katrina consider themselves husband and wife, just on their commitment to each other, no certificate, no church, just their bond. Underground, they call it. It has an appeal.”

“It does. We couldn’t be as underground as them, not with MCS, but as for that... I agree,” Carson says, lowering his lips and kissing the swell of my left breast. “For now, though... I have unfinished business.”

Carson kisses my breast again, little kisses that tease and soothe my still racing nerves as he circles closer and closer to my nipple. His tongue comes out and traces the stiff nub, and I'm gasping, cooing in pleasure as he suckles and nibbles, his right hand coming up to massage the other side.

“Oh, Carson... we’re going to need another shower,” I say, relishing the feeling. I'm warm and tingly again, my body rippling with pleasure as Carson rubs against me. “You're magical.”

“Just hungry for dessert.”

“The ice cream wasn't enough?” I tease, and Carson shakes his head, kissing down my body, until his breath tickles the hair above my pussy. “Really?”

“Why not?” he asks, smiling. “You're sexy.”

Before I can say anything else he reaches out with his tongue and caresses me, stopping my heart it feels so amazing. Holding my legs open with his strong hands, Carson slips his tongue inside me, feasting on me and sending stars shooting across my vision. My back arches and I cry out weakly, unable to take a full breath while he licks and sucks, his tongue never stopping its amazing writhing inside me.

“Carson... fuck... it's so good...”

“Mmm, it is,” he agrees, humming and sending vibrations through my pussy. “You're delicious.”

I can't say anything, my voice cut off as he finds my clit and licks, his tongue slick with my juices and sliding over my hard, sensitive button. He circles, flicking over the tip, each touch sending me higher and higher in ecstasy, unable to understand how he knows just what my body needs, when to change, when to adjust and leave me reeling, desperate and looking forward to what he's going to do next.

“Carson...” I groan again as he pushes me toward another orgasm. “Oh, don't stop, please.”

Carson's muffled reply doesn't make any sense, but his tongue speeds up, blurring over the tip of my clit and I give myself to him, putting myself in his hands as he drives me that last little bit, my body spasming again and again, driven crazy as another orgasm tears through me. I'm thrashing, my feet kicking in the air as I sob, unable to control myself, but Carson holds me, his hands finding mine and holding on, giving me a rock to hold onto before I'm sent tumbling forever into the blackness that fills my vision.

When I can finally think again, when I can finally breathe, I find Carson on his knees next to me, but we're not where we were before on the bed. “What happened?”

“You went into convulsions, like you had a seizure,” Carson whispers, obviously relieved. “You were starting to worry me.”

I stretch my legs, amazed at how tired and how mellow I feel. “You.”

“What?” he asks, confused, and I smile.

“You. It's all because of you, and how you know, without even thinking, how to bring me to ultimate pleasure. You're my heart, my soulmate,” I explain, putting my hand on his heart. “I feel bad, though.”

“Why?” he asks, touched by my words. “What could you ever feel bad about?”

“I've had two mind-blowing, amazing orgasms. You've only come once.”

Carson chuckles and slides down next to me in the bed, chuckling. “Rest. We'll sleep some, rest, and then we can go about taking care of that. Oh, and using the massage oil, we never did get around to that.”