“Fine,” he muttered on a husky grunt. Without much effort, he took control of the situation and flipped her onto her back. She really shouldn’t challenge him this way. He was naturally competitive and this was one contest he had to win.
Forgetting about the being gentle part, he grasped both wrists in one of his hands and pulled them over her head—yanking her body into place at the same time. She gasped—very quietly but it was there—when he put his face an inch from hers. “Your hands don’t move. Understand?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “If they do, I’m going to tie them to the bed.”
He’d never tied a woman to a bed before and couldn’t believe he’d actually threatened her that way. His cock surged. Approval from below. Great.
Using the same hand movement she teased him with, Cal ran his fingers from the base of her throat, straight down the center of her chest and stopped at her navel for a bit of one finger titillation. He fucking liked that there weren’t any lights. The inky blackness and the storm howling outside gave an otherworldly quality to the encounter. It fit her in some strange way. All around them was a raging storm and brutal coldness. But in the dark, where sight was worthless, his senses picked up things. Like the way her respirations picked up. And her skin. Despite the chilly room, her skin was warm. And soft.
Yep. On that thought, he tore off the practical white cotton undies, spread her legs with eager hands and dove straight in. She never made a sound but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a trembling, twitching, wreck once he got going.
There was snatch licking—that thing guys did that they thought was an insurance policy for getting laid. And then there was eating pussy. In ‘tessa’s case, the things he did with his face between her legs and with his hands, was art. Art the way she liked it. Beautiful. Complete. In the moment. Rapturous.
Even without her pleasure moans, he knew she was quickly unraveling. Coming undone was the phrase that came to mind, but coming wasn’t on the agenda. Not yet.
Cal tortured her clit, one finger lazily stroking her deep when she tightened. He smiled against her flesh. How she stayed so quiet, he didn’t know. Spoke of a tremendous effort on her part.
Her knees rose of their own accord and spread wider. She was offering him everything. With a slow, unhurried lick with his whole tongue, he went from back to front. She was so wet, his face drenched with her essence.
All it would take was a few deliberate flicks of his tongue and she’d be screaming in ecstasy. He stopped, rose up and moved till his mouth was almost on hers.
“Kiss me, baby girl. Tell me with your mouth how much you want to come.”
She stiffened. The warning bells clanged in his head. Ah, fuck. Wrong thing to say. He started to reel in what his stupid mouth blurted out, but she was having none of it. Scrambling to put distance between them, he tried to stop her without luck. ‘tessa was determined and he didn’t want her to get hurt so he backed off and gave her some space. Stupid fucking move on his part. He should have pressed his advantage instead of giving in. She had him flat on his back so fast he was ten seconds behind from then on out.
There was nothing—not even a sliver of light—between his surprise that she bested him and the feeling of her glorious wet heat opening for him as she lowered onto his cock.
Oh my God. Oh my God. It was so good. Unf. So wet. So fucking hot. He bucked his hips searching for more. More. He wanted more. Deeper. Harder. More.
She rode him with an audacious fury. In the dark, the sound her wet pussy made each time she plunged down got him groaning along in harmony. He held her tits, enjoying the way they moved with each passionate thrust and felt the long necklace she still wore plunk against her skin.
But still, though her body was making all sorts of lewd noises, she uttered not a sound. And she didn’t kiss him.
It felt like a test of wills. He wanted everything—everything she gave so freely before the web of his former life became too much a struggle. She wanted his body and none of the other stuff.
Cal dug his heels into the mattress, grabbed her hips for leverage and let loose. Wildly bucking up each time she lowered, he slammed her on his cock. Over and over. Her tits swayed and bounced around his face. Occasionally, he’d capture a nipple with his mouth and suck as hard as he could.
He couldn’t hold out much longer. There was something carnal and primitive about being inside her without a barrier. Cal never indulged without a condom. He didn’t care who the fuck it was. So this experience with ‘tessa—his flesh buried in her flesh—was more than he dreamed possible. Maybe it was the dark—he didn’t know. But a thousand visuals popped into his head. His cock erupting deep inside her. ‘tessa’s hungry pussy convulsing when she came.
One of her hands reached into his hair and grabbed hold. Every muscle in her body went taut. His cock felt like velvet fingers were squeezing it. She flooded with pleasure. He sank deep, held her hips so she couldn’t move and ground his cock into her.
She shook from head to toe. He’d never felt anything so remarkable. It was like she was possessed. Possessed by an orgasm so powerful she lost control. Something happened along the way. Something he’d never experienced before. Her pleasure was so complete, she soaked them with her climax. He roared his approval. She made a hushed whimper. Just one. Shaking violently, she arched her back, her arms flung wide and succumbed to the power of his cock.
He grunted like an animal when he came. She was so wet and so hot, he just exploded. And the explosion didn’t end. Pouring into her, he thrashed wildly, his heart nearly bursting.
And then the calm after the storm. Cal was speechless. Part of him was twisting in agony—so fierce was his need to consummate their feral lovemaking with a kiss.
He was lost in that thought when she rose off him. He was stunned and unhappy when his still rigid cock was set loose. Without a single word, absolutely nothing, she slung her leg over him, scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up.
He barely saw more than a shadow as she moved into the bathroom. He heard the water run. Knew she was washing away the remnants of their love-ma…no. Hold up. Not love-making. This was the point she was making. Sex. They’d had sex. Messy sex. Now that she was done with him, she was efficiently and coldly making it abundantly clear what just happened.
Minutes went by. The water ran. When it stopped, she walked through the darkness once more.
“Hand me my shirt,” she asked in a coolly polite voice. Oh sure. Now that they were finished fucking like animals, now she could talk.
“Better get dressed,” she told him cheerfully. “Don’t wanna catch cold.”
And then she was gone.
THERE WAS NO WAY CHARLIE was going to boo hoo and wring her hands over any of what went down between her and Ty. No. Caleb. That part she had to keep straight. Caleb.
She was a grown ass woman with a serious case of the hot and bothers for a guy. They were having sex. Lots of it. On her terms. Where exactly was the problem? What she was doing was no different than what any of her girlfriends did. Her sisters? Yeah. Not so much, but she really shouldn’t compare herself to them.
Two weeks were now water under the bridge, after the monster storm robbed their little corner of the state of power for twenty-four hours. They’d managed well enough despite the practical challenges. Soon as the snow stopped, Cal went about clearing off the vehicles, snowblowing all around the house, the garage and the walkway to the bakery. Part of that process involved making the gas grill on the patio accessible. There was a lot you could do with some ingenuity and propane.
Soon as things got back to normal, they really got back to normal. Jonas and his crew went back to working on the house renovation, Amy ran the bakery and Cal studiously repaired the storm damage to the porch roof.
And her? What did Charlie fill her days with? She’d been undeniably freaked out after that first erotic explosion because they did it in Brynn and Jax’s bed. And not only that, her unexpected waterworks left glaring evidence on the bedsp
read. Could anything be more embarrassing? Luckily, it wasn’t hard to completely replace all the bedding so nobody would ever know what a wanton slut she was being. Not that it mattered. She didn’t give a flying monkey’s ass what anyone thought.
Every night he joined her for dinner. Except for the night he surprised her with a birthday balloon and a cupcake from the bakery, their conversations were stilted and overly polite. Just as well, though, she put on a detached air, the truth was, she was confused and uncertain. And Caleb? He was grumpy and surly. Until she appeared in the loft. Which she did with alarming frequency. And sometimes not when he was hunkered down for the evening or even first thing in the morning.
A couple of times she’d gone and simply taken his hand and led him to the not-so-private studio loft fuck nest. She didn’t imagine for a second that Jonas didn’t see what was going on. And Amy? Shit. That girl had binoculars or something. Every day, when she stopped in at the tearoom to say hi and grab calorie laden bad things from the bakery, Amy eyed her knowingly and went out of her way to crack some pretty inappropriate jokes.
Pouring an overly large mug of coffee, she took it along with a butterscotch scone and a book to the big leather wing chair in front of the tearoom’s gigantic hearth. Hanging around the house was dangerous. With nothing for her to do except find trouble—usually naked trouble—she’d taken to setting up camp here for a few hours every day.
With all her goodies spread out around her, Charlie indulged in the dense buttery scone, swooned over the richness of the incredible coffee blend the Baron’s Tea Room served. She admired Brynn tremendously for her pay it forward business sense. She liked to think some of her hippy girl, peace and love ways made an impact on her wise, older sister.
All the coffee and tea brewed for serving at Baron’s was on the house. You could order specialty teas of course and some folks were addicted to those damn coffee pods. That stuff, the customers paid for. But what they brewed on site was all fair trade and organically sourced, of a high quality and personally tested and approved of by Brynn herself, even though she hated the stuff. If you needed a cup of really good coffee, it was free at Baron’s.
Amy added an old, beat-up kitchen cauldron some workers found when the barn was originally renovated. There, people could drop tips knowing all the money collected went to two causes. The local veteran’s group and the food bank serving homeless in the area.
She smiled and looked around at the grand old barn so lovingly renovated. Her grandpa would be proud of the Baron-Wilde legacy. Nana was a genius for handing this whole place over to Brynn. After all, she was the natural heir and the family’s good name would be safe in her hands.
Pulling her legs up, she curled into the antique wing chair and thumbed through a treasure. She found an old book of classic fairy tales published in the late eighteen hundreds at one of the local shops. With a baby about to join the family, she’d been thinking about doing a mural on the wall in the nursery’s small alcove. That’s where Brynnie planned to put the baby’s changing table. Charlie was looking for fairy tale inspiration and the book was the perfect aid.
Lost in a cloud of artistic fantasy, she startled when Amy approached, poured a tea and joined her in the other chair.
“Whatcha got there?” Amy asked. Sipping her drink, she held Charlie’s eyes over the rim of her teacup. Remembering what Brynn told her about Rhi being in collusion with Amy, she didn’t have to wonder if the interrogating stares and every word she said wasn’t going to be reported to the Baron-Wilde middle sister. She considered asking Amy to confirm Brynn’s suspicion that Rhiann was writing, but thought better of it. She wouldn’t tell her anyway. Amy was like that. Loyal to the bone.
“Mm, something old. Here, smell,” she said, handing the book off. “Fairy tales and the scent of a musty library. My favorite thing!”
“You Wilde girls and your books,” Amy chuckled. “Guess it’s in your blood, huh? Rhiann speaks of your father’s home library like it’s a world wonder.”
Sooo true. “Thanks to Professor Wilde, I knew what a first edition was long before stepping foot in a classroom. I wanna do a mural for the baby,” she explained. “I love the softness of the illustrations—perfect for a nursery.”
“Oh,” Amy quipped. “So this is inspiration. That’s cool. I like the way your mind works, Charlie.” She paged through the lovely antique volume of wonderfulness as Charlie sipped her coffee.
Pausing to inspect a page, Amy innocently asked, “Did you make any new years resolutions?”
Resolutions. Uh, no. Not this year. She’d been too busy at midnight getting her ….
Amy laughed. “First Brynn and now you, sneaking into the loft at all hours. I’ve heard of sisters hooking up with brothers before but you two are setting a new standard.”
Trapped, she stuttered awkwardly. “What? Oh. Um, that. Yeah. I mean, no.”
“That’s what I call covering all the bases.”
“You don’t understand,” Charlie blurted. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“What do you think it looks like, hmmm?”
“Well, first of all, Brynn and Jax were in love, and …”
“Not at first they weren’t,” she cut in with quite a bite. “He came real close to having some northwoods country mojo unleashed on his ass.”
Charlie sighed and bit her lip. This was news. She only knew a little bit about the drama before they got together. Mostly, her info centered on Nana meddling and then her parents stirring the pot.
“Oh, really? I didn’t know. But seriously, Amy. No country mojo required. Already been there and done that.”
“What the hell does that mean exactly?”
Dammit, she didn’t mean to give so much away. “It means, I’m not interested in romance or any of that mushy stuff. No need to do a therapy session on why. Caleb is … well, he’s a blip on the radar. When the newlyweds return, I’m heading out. So.” She stopped talking and shrugged.
Amy studied her. Charlie started to sweat. It was nerve-wracking.
“Where you headed next Charlize? Home to Happy Valley? Your folks would love that. Or you planning on some new adventure?”
Truthfully, she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. She didn’t want to make actual plans. Letting the winds blow her where she needed to be seemed like a good enough solution. She’d end up where she ended up. Period.
With a casual shrug, she shoved the last piece of scone into her mouth. With her fingers shielding that she was still in mid-chew, Charlie quietly dropped what she knew would be a bomb.
“Nana Wilde wants me to go stay with her. Through the summer.”
Amy’s shock was understandable. Charlie’d have to be nuts to willingly climb into the old woman’s meddling twirly wheel.
“Excuse me?”
“Yep. You heard me. She’s promising to unlock the vault. Says I can, and I quote, ‘curate’ the contents. Ho-lee fuckballz.”
“Whoa. My God.” Amy paused and got really still. Finally, she added, “You do know, right—that Rhiann would kill for a chance to weed through the woman’s mementos. And shit. Getting a first-hand look at her journals?”
That’s what was giving Charlie a bad case of conscience. She knew Rhi would cut a bitch where Nana’s colorful life history was concerned. It was her sister’s dream to write the insider’s biography on the fantabulous life and times of Bryanna Charles Baron-Wilde. Nana knew it too, so it seemed especially suspicious when she made the offer to Charlie.
“I know,” she said. “I got the impression she wants me to catalog everything—not review or explore. Hopefully getting it all organized will be the first step to handing it off to Rhi.”
“Hmph. So, Philly it is, I suppose? How can you turn that down?”
Charlie laughed and widened her eyes. “Oh my lord, Amy. I’m sooooo bored. There’s nothing for me to do here. It’s funny, really. When you think about it, I mean. I teach others how to relax. Smell the roses. But here I am crawling out
of my skin.”
“Does that explain why you’re jumping on Caleb every fifteen minutes? Boredom? Sheesh, Charlie. That’s a big time grown up man. Seems a bit odd to me that he’d put up with being relegated to the toy drawer.”
The toy drawer? Eeep! She better kick up her verbal game. Stop sounding like a prude with a naughty secret.
“Oh,” she sniggered. “Don’t worry about him. Caleb Merrill is going to be just fine. You should see his little black book.” Oh, crap. Wait. Do guys still have one of those? Probably not. Everything’s done with technology now. “He’s got quite a rep.”
Amy was too damn smart. Either that or Charlie was a fool. Maybe a bit of both.
“And what would you know about his rep, young lady? Europe is a big place, sure. But maybe your paths crossed at some point. Hmmm?”
Oops. Damage control. Stat. She knew just what to do.
“Yes, well…” she smoothly quipped. “We all have our secrets. And you’d know all about that. Right? I think you know way more about Rhi and probably even what’s really happening with that asshole boss of hers. And other things.”
Amy burst out laughing and smacked her playfully on the knee. “Touché, Charlize! Touché! Nicely played little sister.”
She was still laughing when she stood up to leave. “And don’t worry. My lips are sealed. You’re a big girl, although I’m sure your sisters would disagree. If you want to teach a certain hottie a lesson, more power to you.”
They giggled, high fived and then Charlie was left with her thoughts. She’d gotten over teaching Caleb a lesson two minutes after she hit the bathroom the night of the snowstorm. She was pissing him off—that she was sure of. But a lesson? Hardly.
A block of wood went sailing through the air, banged the side of the house and dropped into a melting snow pile.
“Fuck,” Cal muttered. That was his third try at making a simple cut he’d done a thousand times before. What the hell was wrong with him?
Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) Page 32
