A Damn Romance Novel

This chapter starts immediately after the previous one.

"Said you didn't want to think—that what you still want, Caro?" Daryl asked, pulling back so he could look into her eyes, his right hand coming up to lift her chin and stoke the soft skin there with his callused thumb, "Or do you need to talk? Tell me all about the bad?"

Carol didn't want to see the concern and trust in his or anyone else's eyes fade to disappointment and distrust once she explained what Negan had ordered her to do. She just wanted to stay safe in Dix's arms and show him how much she trusted him with everything she had.

"Don't want to think now." she said softly, "Don't want to talk." Still looking up into his eyes, she dipped her chin so his thumb traced her lips.

"What do you want then?" he asked her, his eyes saying he was fully willing to do whatever she wanted, whatever she needed from him.

"You." she said, opening her mouth to take his thumb inside its wet heat, tongue swirling around the blunt end and then sucking down.

Daryl's heart rate kicked up—she saw the pulse throbbing in his throat—and then his eyes narrowed.

"Tell me how you want me." he said, low and careful, his voice rasping in that way that made her knees weak and her lady parts tingle. The man could simply count to a hundred in that sex drenching growl and she'd surely almost come by the time he reached ten...

Naked... Carol's overheated mind screamed, though she didn't voice the command as she reached for his big silver buckle and quickly pulled it loose, the metallic jangle as seductive as any sultry song he could've put on to set the mood. She grasped the tail of his shirt, dragging it up off his belly so she could run her hands over his tight abs, pushing the shirt and wife beater higher.

Daryl chuckled and pulled his thumb from her mouth, whipping his shirt off over his head, standing before her bare chested; the name etched over his heart raising and lowering with his increasingly rapid breaths.

"Touch me, Caro." Daryl rasped, "Please..."

Carol ran her tongue over her lower lip as she tried to decide where to touch first—she'd learned a few more of his hot spots that very morning—besides his ears there were the small rose brown nipples that hardened on strong pecs as she watched. Or maybe the tattoos? She still hadn't pressed him for the details of how and why he'd acquired them. Of course there were his sun bronzed shoulders, the magnificent corded muscles of his biceps and forearms—and that was just the magnificence above his belt... there was just too much to choose from.

"What do you want me to touch you with?" she finally asked, pursing her lips at him, working the buttons of her blouse and backing him towards the kitchenette. By the time his ass hit the table top, her blouse and bra had both joined his shirt on the floor.

Daryl's eyes darkened with a sharp spike of lust and the need to loosen his suddenly very constricting looking jeans. He sprawled his legs open so she could fit between them and couldn't resist cupping her perfect cream pale breasts in his big hands.

"These?" he asked, pleadingly, "Touch my mouth with these?" and then curled down so he could do it, waiting for her assent, his lips barely an inch from the tight rose peak stretching eagerly towards him.

"And your tongue?" she asked, feeling reckless. "I have other things I'd like to touch that with..."

"Most definitely." he agreed, his face solemn, but his eyes were glinting with dangerous promise.

Carol leaned in the inch he was waiting for and he let her touch his mouth with her sweet soft skin, teasingly rubbing the diamond hard nipple over and over on his opened lips, making him groan. She put her hands on the back of his head to hold him in place, winding her fingers through his hair and with another groan he opened his mouth wide and sucked down hard, lashing the tender bud with his strong tongue.

Daryl heard Carol's deep sigh and felt her body dip as her knees went weak. Struggling to just stay upright, her grip on his hair was painfully tight, but it just spurred him on, his total focus on using just his mouth and tongue on her sensitive breasts to make her come for him this first time, anticipating how he would do it the next and the one after that...

The loud knock on the door took awhile to register, but whoever it was continued most insistently.

Intensely pissed off at the interruption, Daryl groaned. If it was fucking Abe looking for condoms he'd flay him alive.

"Go away—it's too late!" Daryl yelled, holding Carol still with his hands still cupping her breasts, his breath hot against her damp skin. "See y'all in the mornin.'"

"Daryl? Carol?" Maggie's worried voice brought him up short. Shit, maybe their kid was sick or something...

Daryl eased Carol away with a regretful look. She nodded in understanding and stood, picking up her bra and blouse, quickly dressing. When he saw she was covered, Daryl whipped open the door.

"Maggie, Glenn." Daryl said tersely by way of greeting, trying not to show how hard he was working on tamping down his arousal from mere minutes ago. He immediately went on alert though when he saw the looks on their faces.

"I hate like hell to bother you Daryl, but we have a problem." Glenn said, averting his eyes when he saw how Daryl was dressed, or rather undressed.

"What's wrong?" Daryl said, quickly buckling his belt while he stood in the doorway, blocking the Rhees' view of Carol as she finished pulling herself together as well.

Carol came up next to him and handed him his shirt.

"Is little Hershel okay?" Carol asked, mirroring Daryl's concern.

"He's fine. Daddy and Enid are with him." Maggie assured them.

"It's Jesus... Paul. They called from the local hospital just now—he had my name as emergency contact—he's been admitted." Glenn explained.

"Is he okay?" Carol asked. Though she hadn't yet spent a lot of time with him, Carol admired the quiet young man, while Daryl had known him for quite a while on the circuit, enough to call him a friend.

"What the hell happened to him?" Daryl asked.

"He was supposed to be meeting up with a couple of old friends of his for dinner." Glenn said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, "I didn't get many details, but something went south and they got the shit beat out of them by some locals."

"Fuck!" Daryl's sharp exclamation of anger made Carol glance over at him. His eyes had gone steely, his jaw was set and his hands were actually shaking as he tried to finish buttoning his shirt.

"I know—it's like Barstow all over again." Glenn said cryptically.

"Let's go." Daryl said abruptly. He gathered his keys, wallet, and hat while Carol grabbed her purse. Daryl urged Glenn and Maggie out of the doorway and down the stairs, but they all paused while he locked up.

"I got the truck keys." Daryl said. There was a king cab pick-up provided by SWW that they all could use to do grocery runs or pick up feed; easier than everyone pulling an extra vehicle behind their rigs, but it smelled of horse and cow shit and arena dust tracked in off their boots.

"We can take my car. It's in the lot." Carol volunteered. She had a much cleaner 4-door Mustang that SWW leased for her to drive to meetings and ferry potential franchisees around at the different venues.

"Meet you there. Gonna stop n' tell Rick n' them so he can pass the word." Daryl gave her a curt nod and pocketed his keys as he strode away.

Carol sighed, wondering if she should do the same for Olivia and Abe, but found herself not wanting to interrupt what might be happening in her trailer. There wasn't really anything they could do for Jesus other than wait and worry like the rest of them. It could wait.

She followed Glenn and Maggie across the camp grounds to the parking lot, the sight of them holding hands, comforting each other as they talked quietly, made Carol acutely aware of Daryl's absence at her side.

As if he sensed her unease, a minute later when he caught up to them, she felt Daryl's hand brush the small of her back before coming to rest there reassuringly. She could tell he was agitated and wanted to ask him if there was more going on than she understood, but then realized there was something she had to do first.

"You drive. I have to call Michonne." Carol said, handing her keys to Daryl and then pulling out her phone and hitting speed dial.

"What the hell?" Glenn stopped short, giving her an incredulous look.

"This has to be managed correctly." Carol said, willing him to understand. Anything that happened with the Team that could make the papers was her responsibility to control and spin the right way for the client.

"This isn't a god damned PR opportunity!" Glenn's voice shook with anger. "He's our friend and he's hurt."

"She has to do her job." Daryl interrupted, putting himself between her and Glenn.

Carol looked at him gratefully—his support and understanding meant everything to her—his narrowed eyes silently said he was backing her, but his frown said she better have a damn good explanation when the time came.

Glenn shook his head at both of them and then there it was: that look of disappointment and distrust she'd been trying to postpone until the morning meeting.

Maggie looked back and forth between her husband and Carol, unsure of what to say.

"What the fuck, Daryl?" Glenn said in angry frustration, "Thought you were Paul's friend—she must be a hell of a god lay to make you-"

Daryl stiffened at the insult and took a warning step towards Glenn.

"Glenn!" Maggie cried in dismay, coming between him and a grim looking Daryl and putting a hand on both their chests to keep them apart.

Just then Michonne picked up her call and Carol started explaining the situation to her, putting her finger in her other ear and turning her back on the others so she could concentrate on what her boss said in reply.

"If you're coming to the hospital with us we need to go." Daryl said, putting his hand gently on her shoulder.

Carol turned back towards him and nodded, still listening to Michonne's counsel as she got into the front seat beside Daryl, trying to ignore the waves of anger coming off Glenn in the back.

The two men sitting in the waiting room looked like they had been on the losing end of the brawl. The one with reddish straight hair and a paler complexion was holding an ice pack to his right hand, a large bruise was starting to bloom on his left jaw and he had a black eye above it. The other, who had curly sandy brown hair and a deep scowl held an ice pack on his mouth with his right hand and his left arm was splinted and in a sling.

"Oh my god, Aaron, Eric!" Maggie cried when she saw them and rushed over to crouch in front of the couch where the men sat. She put her hands on Aaron's knees and looked like she was about to start crying.

"Hey Maggie." Aaron replied, his voice a bit garbled from behind the ice. Wincing, he dropped it in his lap and put his hand over top of Maggie's and held on.

Maggie started to cry quietly when she saw that Aaron's lower lip was split open and swollen to at least three times its normal size.

"Paul will be okay. Possible concussion—that's what they're doing tests for now." the other man, Eric, said to her, encompassing Glenn in his reassurance and then looked questioningly at Daryl and Carol who were standing behind him.

"This is Carol—she's—" Glenn began, a bit angrily, but Daryl interrupted, pulling off his hat so they could see his face.

"She's with me." Daryl said definitively and Carol looked at him gratefully.

"Daryl Dixon." Aaron nodded. "I know who you are; saw you ride in Vegas in 2015. Paul told us you were in on this Dream Team thing too." he looked Daryl up and down appreciatively and gave him a slow smile, "He did not exaggerate."

"I'm Eric Raleigh and this flirt is my husband, Aaron." the other man said, pursing his lips at his partner in tolerant admonishment.

Aaron tried to grin in acknowledgement, but winced when it pulled painfully on his swollen lip.

"So what happened to you?" Maggie finally asked.

"We had a nice visit, dinner and drinks with Paul at a local bar and then headed outside to go home." Eric explained, "Got jumped in the parking lot by about ten redneck cowboys."

"Shit—ten?" Daryl swore.

"Paul did some of his kung fu on them, but there were just too many of them." Aaron said, "While we were fighting off the ones on us, five of them got him down, kicked the shit out of him and dragged him into the alley next to the bar."

"They hung him up on the chain link. Tied his arms and legs up with rope, hung up like it was a crucifixion." Eric said, his voice shaking painfully in remembrance. "Said if he wanted to be 'Jesus' they'd oblige him."

"How did they know... did they know you were...?" Carol stopped and started her question, trying to ask the right thing and not offend.

"I think the exact quote was, if he wanted to be faggot Jesus, savior of the queers, they'd oblige him." Aaron said thickly.

"Sounds familiar." Glenn said with a sour look over at Daryl.

"Barstow?" Carol asked.

Daryl sighed. He understood she needed to know all she could about the situation so she could stay ahead of it, but he wasn't sure she would understand what he had done that night.

"You need it for your press release?" Glenn asked Carol with a sneer.

"Back off, Rhee." Daryl warned.

"Glenn, she needs to know." Maggie said, putting her hand on her husband's arm to calm him.

"We were taking some down time at a bar outside Barstow." Daryl began. He looked to Glenn who looked pissed, but made a motion with his hand for him to continue.

"Abe was out on the dance floor sweet talkin' some girl into joining us for the night so I was sitting at the table with Glenn and Jesus shootin' the breeze when some drunk off his ass guy comes up and starts sayin' all sorts of shit to Paul. Real cutting shit about his riding and insinuating he was getting better rides because he was blowing the stock contractors, n' judges for first pick of the rough stock. Really ugly shit."

"Does that happen a lot? The accusations I mean?" Carol asked.

"There's a lot of homophobia on the circuit, yeah." Daryl nodded, "But there's also a lot of sex. Of all kinds. People usually turn a blind eye if nobody's getting hurt or takin' advantage. This was different though. Turns out the guy was Paul's abusive closeted ex."

"Oh." Carol said, her empathy for Jesus clear on her face. She knew how horrific it was to have your less than ideal personal life aired in public.

"He started telling Rovia if he didn't take him back that he'd go to the PRCA ruling board and expose him. Spitting out real vicious language and threats..." Daryl shrugged, "So I told the ass hole I was Paul's new man and a bonafide cowboy who knew how to hog tie and castrate calves and could do the same to abusive dicks with my eyes closed."

"And then Dix kissed Paul. Tongue and everything. It was like something out of a damn romance novel." Glenn said with a shake of his head and a wry grin. "Someone used their phone to film it—might still be up on YouTube..."

Daryl's eyes narrowed, looking to Carol to see her reaction to that revelation.

Other than slightly widening her eyes, she was still listening intently.

"Problem was by then everyone in the bar was paying attention to our table and a few of the local good old boys took exception to the 'rodeo fags' trying to take over their bar." Glenn continued the thread of the story.

"All hell broke loose. We were outnumbered and got our asses handed to us until Abe waded in to help. We just barely got out of there before the cops showed up and arrested everyone who didn't end up in the hospital." Daryl finished the tale.

"Paul came out publicly a couple of weeks later—said he was tired of having the sword of Damocles over his head." Aaron added. "It hasn't been easy going for him, but he's tough. A good man... a good friend."

"Who shouldn't be laying in a hospital room right now because of more fucking prejudiced ass holes." Daryl grated out. "Shit like this has to stop."

"That's what we're trying to do with Denim Dreams." Carol said, drawing everyone's attention. She realized this was a chance to put the best face on what Negan wanted her to do. "That's why we chose who we did to represent the new line. You're all good people who have faced some of the worst things possible and come out the other side—you can give hope, help promote tolerance just by being yourselves and letting us show that to the public."

"It still sounds like exploitation to me." Glenn argued.

"Not if you control it." Carol replied. "Get out in front of it. No spin—just truth. The whole truth, setbacks and failures too." She looked at Daryl, "Not just the winning ride, but the one that went pear shaped and the agonizing rehab after." and then looked at Aaron and Eric, "Not just the triumphant coming out, but the continuing fight for acceptance. People need to know what happened to Paul so they can see how wrong it is. That's my job."

"I thought your job was to sell jeans." Glenn said cynically.

"If that's all there was to it, then we put Dix in a skin tight pair, all sweaty so his t-shirt is plastered to him, riding a mechanical bull like he's fucking it, with lots of lingering close-ups of him flexing all those muscles in slow motion to a sultry country western tune while some pouty turned-on fashion model looks like she's having an orgasm watching him." Carol said, her voice in 'pitch' mode, selling the picture vividly.

"Damn, girl..." Eric fanned himself.

"I vote yea." Aaron chimed in, lifting a hand to have it counted.

Daryl scowled at them both.

"This campaign is supposed to be more than that." Carol said earnestly. "Hit harder; not just be superficial or typical. Be socially progressive. Show how dreams can come true for all kinds of people."

"So what are you asking us to do, Carol?" Maggie asked, standing and crossing her arms in front of herself.

"It's what the meeting tomorrow is supposed to be about..." Carol said tentatively, "Negan wants to use more of your life stories in the ads—not just your rodeo careers, but the rest too—personal details."

"Like what?" Glenn asked suspiciously.

"Like Barstow." Carol said carefully. "You all standing up for your bullied gay friend." She looked over at Daryl, "Or how you helped Abe get back on his feet after he lost his family..."

"Or how the son of the town drunk and a murdered mother rose above his abusive past?" Daryl said, his face set in stone as he stared at her, his mouth working. "Losing my kid?"

"Yes." Carol said evenly, refusing to drop her eyes even though they were brimming, "Probably."

"Right." Daryl nodded slowly, then his gaze fell to the floor and he started to chew on the inside of his lower lip. "Said it was bad..." he muttered and then looked up at her, "Weren't no lie." Then he sighed and put his hat back on, tugging it low over his forehead, hiding his eyes. "Need some air."

Carol watched him walk away from her down the hospital hallway. When he reached the doors to the stairs, he slammed them open and stalked through, never looking back.

I know. Angst fest. Sorry.

I'm done with the semester Hooray! Finals are graded & summer officially begins after Commencement on Saturday so I will have lots more time to write & will be able to update with better regularity & frequency. Thanks to everyone who has asked about this story (& others!)