by Alison Ryan
She couldn’t ponder long, as his fucking, once gentle and sweet, had become more intense and relentless. His hands were behind the small of her back and down to her ass, and her ankles were crossed behind him even as her hands moved to his chest and face. She mewed and writhed, unable to look at him, lost in a swirl of emotion and sensations.
Charlotte was vaguely aware of a tender sort of soreness down there, like after she’d had a particularly intense workout, muscles that lay dormant her entire life being called into immediate and vigorous action.
Her orgasms seemed to roll, one into the next, endings and beginnings impossible to discern. Declan’s visage had taken on a peculiar sort of intensity, his teeth gritted below a forehead dotted with sweat. He was growling more than speaking.
“Charlotte, you feel so good, you’re so sexy, oh, fuck … Baby, I’m… I can’t stop…you’re going to make me…”
Charlotte threw her hands behind his neck and pulled him close, kissing him hungrily as she felt a series of his eruptions filling her. He’d sat back on his haunches, pulling her completely off the bed, holding her tight to his chest as her own clenching climax served to milk him of every last drop.
The lovers collapsed onto the bed, stretched out face to face, silly smiles on both their faces, kissing cheeks and noses, fingertips exploring arms and backs, and running through hair. She nuzzled her head into his chest, his protective arms wrapping her up tight, securing her against anything the world outside those four walls could ever throw at her.
Charlotte was right where she was always meant to be. She knew that. Whatever twists and turns her life had taken, to be held by Declan DeGraff in the basking, beautiful moments after their shared bliss was more perfect than syrup on pancakes, a cool ocean breeze on scorching July day, or a mountain of presents under the tree on Christmas morning.
Declan cradled Charlotte, their legs twisted together, and they fell into a deep, contented sleep. Charlotte’s last thought before drifting away was that maybe she’d finally figured out why she’d felt drawn to Charleston.
It was Declan. It would always be him.
Chapter 11
Charlotte rubbed tanning oil on her arms and legs. She knew it was an absolutely terrible idea to do it, especially since she was a doctor and knew the possible repercussions, but she longed for sun-kissed skin. She’d tanned so easily when she was younger, but being inside a hospital all the time had left her colorless and drab. If she was going to live by the beach, she was going to look like she belonged there.
In the distance a man had sauntered out to the beach from the house next door.
I guess that’s the blonde’s husband, she thought. He looks a little young for her, but to each his own.
Charlotte closed her eyes and basked in the breeze and heat of the perfect southern day. She already felt calmer, being here. But she missed Vanessa. Maybe she could fly her down here in the next couple of weeks; explain what had happened in Nashville and why she’d had to leave it behind.
Declan swam a few short laps in his pool and then sauntered down to the water, leaving his towel, phone, and flip flops behind in his gated backyard. He liked having a stretch of beach more or less to himself, and he walked a bit, picking up a few shells to see if the tide had dropped anything interesting at his backdoor overnight. He’d stolen a glance at the girl in the black bikini as he strolled past, and thought she had a killer body, if a little pale for a day at the beach. Her face was obscured by a Kardashian on the cover of People, but he’d be surprised if she was anything short of a knockout with a body like that.
A few gulls shadowed Declan as he walked, hoping he was one of those beachgoers who threw bread into the air, but after circling for a few minutes, they gave up and left him alone with his thoughts.
Wandering down into the surf, Declan let his feet sink in the sand, deeper with each wave that crashed at his ankles. He watched a crab skitter over to him and snap curiously at the exposed part of his right foot and he was suddenly lost in melancholy. I bet that crab would have no idea if his dad was dying of pancreatic fucking cancer. He’s probably never known what it’s like to lose your father and still not be over losing the one person he ever loved. Ironic. A world filled with people envious of me and my money and here I am, jealous of a crab, Declan thought to himself.
He walked a while longer until he realized he was nearing the end of the island and then it occurred to him that he didn’t exactly know what his new digs looked like from the beach. He knew his gate code, so getting back inside the house wouldn’t be a problem, but many of the oceanfront mansions looked alike and it would be embarrassing to try to go inside the wrong house or to have to go back up to the street to find it that way.
In the distance he could see people starting to setup canopies and chairs, preparing for a day of fun in the sun. He thought back to the girl in the bikini who he’d been watching from his back porch – if she was still there, he’d know he had the right place. And he might get to introduce himself and see what she looked like beneath a glossy picture of a reality TV star.
Charlotte hid behind her magazine as her neighbor’s husband walked past, but she snuck a peek once he was a safe distance away. Trophy husband was the first thing that came to mind. She concocted an entire life for the people who lived next door; she was a wealthy widow who’d snatched up a young stud who married her for her money, but who also kept a young girlfriend out in Summerville somewhere. He spent days at the gym and the beach, staying fit and tan to impress all her friends at the country club. She didn’t have to work, but she served on the boards of several charities or maybe the hospital to stay busy between lunch at the yacht club or the occasional round of golf.
Charlotte admired the man’s silhouette framed against the sun hovering over the horizon. He was tall and in good shape, broad-shouldered with an easy, confident gait. She watched him walk, noisy seagulls squawking in his wake.
Before long, he was too far down the beach to ogle and she’d run out of her ideas for the Lifetime movie starring her new neighbors, so she propped herself up on her elbows to watch the waves. The sounds of families unpacking wagons, college guys popping the tops of their cans, and children arguing over beach toys began to fill the air around her, drowning out the ocean for the moment. She finished an article about a woman who ran a rescue for circus animals in Oklahoma and set her magazine down, standing up, stretching, and walking quickly across the hot sand to get down to the water.
She splashed it up onto her shoulders and face, letting the ocean cool her down. She’d never been one to swim out too far, but wading up to her knees or so suited her just fine.
Declan made his return up the beach, looking for landmarks, and although he was disappointed that the girl in the black bikini seemed to be gone, he recognized his house and figured he’d head back up after he went out into the ocean for a few minutes and let the tide buffet him about.
As he reached the water, he heard a child’s voice call out. “Heads up! Sorry!” and saw a Nerf football in flight, heading in his direction.
Never one to pass up an opportunity for athletic glory, Declan drew a bead on the wayward ball, charged forward, and began his leap to make the catch. Displaying the focus that made him an all-county wide receiver in high school, Declan attempted to change direction as the wind made the ball dip, and he reached full extension – only to collide with a defensive back.
Although this defensive back was wearing sunglasses and a black bikini instead of shoulder pads and a helmet. The he was a very attractive she. And Declan had just knocked her down.
As he offered a hand to help her up and an embarrassed, stuttering apology to her, he realized, eyes wide with shock, that there was a reason she’d seemed so familiar to him. Her eyes were the same ones he’d first fallen for on the bridge ten years ago.
The girl in the black bikini was none other than Charlotte Sanders.
As he comprehended this, Charlotte had also come to a similar realiz
ation.
Her neighbor was Declan Degraff.
All of a sudden the past was back. And neither of them were sure what to make of it.
Charlotte knew one thing. She had to get out of here. Now.
Chapter 12
“Charlotte!”
She could hear his voice calling to her, the voice she hadn’t heard in a decade. But she couldn’t stop.
“Charlotte!”
She trudged through the hot sand, the ground shifting beneath her as she tried to quickly make her way back to the cottage. What would she do once she was there? She wasn’t sure. She’d close the door on him and never open it again. Then she’d sneak out in the middle of the night and go somewhere else- anywhere else.
What was happening? How was he here? She’d read the article, it said Declan DeGraff is a proud West Coast transplant. He splits his time between his homes in Marin County and Medina, Washington.
Neither of those places were anywhere near South Carolina.
Of all the times for him to decide to come home!
She’d left her bag, her towel, her magazine, everything out on the beach. She didn’t look back. She was both scared he was chasing her and scared he wasn’t. She wasn’t sure which one frightened her more.
Declan was still stuck in the sand, holding a foam football and watching Charlotte run away from him. The shock of seeing her face had almost knocked him over. She was a ghost from his past, the biggest ghost of all, and somehow fate had made them collide again, in almost the same way it had on that day on the Ravenel Bridge.
He’d thought of chasing her, but the look she’d given him when she’d realized… She’d looked terrified. And when she’d literally stood and run from him, it was clear that chasing her down wouldn’t be ideal.
God, she was still beautiful. Those eyes, still sad, still haunting… and her body. It was still as magnificent as he remembered.
All he wanted was to go to her, to tell her everything that had been sitting on his heart for the past decade.
But it was clear that Charlotte Sanders was not interested in hearing it.
Charlotte reached the cottage and when she turned around, breathless, she could still see Declan’s tall form in the distance, still standing next to her towel, looking back at her with a look of shock and bewilderment.
I must look insane, she thought. He wasn’t even chasing me.
She entered her house through the sliding patio door on her porch and as soon as the cool burst of air conditioning hit her flushed skin, she began to cry. It was too much, all of this.
She slowly slumped against the glass and slid down to sit, her feet tender from the hot sand, her calves sore from running on it. What did she do now? Would he come to the house? Or would he leave? Her body and heart willed him to knock on her door. Her mind wrestled to overrule both of them.
He was still so fucking handsome. Why did he have to look even better than he did ten years ago? Tall, dark, tan, with a more knowing face. Declan DeGraff was clearly someone who would age well, the proof of the sports he’d played in college still imprinted on his muscular body.
Maybe she should have stayed. But what could she possibly have said? And what could he possibly say after how he’d ended it?
No, she couldn’t talk to him. She wouldn’t. She hoped he didn’t try to come knock on her door. Because she wasn’t answering.
Declan couldn’t believe it. Charlotte Sanders was his neighbor.
The Passat in the driveway was hers. He wondered if someone was in the house with her. Certainly Charlotte was married by now. Probably to a handsome doctor, or an attorney. Someone incredibly successful, that’s the only type of man who someone like Charlotte would be compatible with. He couldn’t help but be envious of whomever that man was, couldn’t help but wonder if he made love to her like Declan had, if he knew the curves and freckles of her body the way Declan still remembered them.
Fuck. This was so messed up.
He sat down on the towel she’d just been laying on.
What was he supposed to do now?
Ten Years Ago
The morning after Declan and Charlotte first made love, things were a tad awkward.
Declan had woken up first. She still slept next to him, her arms stuffed under her pillow, one naked, tan leg resting above the sheets. He loved the shape of her body. It was like a guitar; all smooth curves. Her skin glowed in the morning light. He took in the sight of her, wanting so badly to wake her and have her again, to taste her mouth and every other part of her body.
Instead he pulled on his pants and shirt and snuck back into the main house to see if he could come up with breakfast for both of them. He quietly went in the side entrance, through the French doors that went into the kitchen.
“Good morning, son!”
Declan nearly jumped out of his skin. His father, Henry, sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper spread out in front of him, steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
“Dad,” Declan sighed. “You scared me. You’re up early.”
“I could say the same about you,” Henry said. “Or are you going to be bed incredibly late?”
Declan shook his head. “Nope, just waking up. Thought I would get some breakfast.”
“Why would you come in from outside?” Henry asked, his eyebrow raised.
“I was visiting Charlotte in the carriage house,” Declan said. “She texted me that… A palmetto bug was in her bathroom. And she’s not from here so she isn’t used to how big they are. So I went in and killed it. Which is why I’m coming in from outside.”
It was possibly the most bullshit and convoluted story Declan had ever come up with. But Henry DeGraff seemed to be bored with him already. He went back to his paper.
“When am I going to meet the girl who is living here, anyway?” Henry asked. “I mean, you didn’t even ask if she could stay here and we know nothing about her.”
Declan sighed. “You’ve never had any interest in my other friends who’ve rented here. Charlotte is fine. She’s a lot cleaner and much more dependable than any of my buddies who crashed here before. And she works a lot. But if you and Mom insist on meeting her, I’ll bring her over sometime.”
Henry shrugged. “I don’t care either way. She’ll be gone by the end of summer anyway.”
Declan’s heart sank. He was actually hoping maybe she could stay longer. He wasn’t sure if she had plans for next semester yet.
“Maybe longer,” Declan said. “She’s still looking for a place.”
Henry looked up from his paper. “Certainly not. No, she has to be out by summer. We don’t run a hotel here. I don’t mind you having friends stay in the house for the summer but you know no one stays beyond that. And really, I think it’s time we stop with the renting out the carriage house stuff. We don’t need the money. It’s a liability risk, really.” Henry went back to looking at the business section.
Declan was angry now. “Whatever. So much for helping someone out that needs it. Wouldn’t want people to think the DeGraffs are charitable or anything.”
Before Henry could respond, Declan was out the door, walking quickly back to the only person he wanted to be near right now.
Charlotte had woken up not long after Declan left, and was heartbroken to see the bed empty next to her. She started to panic a bit, inwardly, trying to go over the previous night’s events in her head.
But before she could convince herself it was a mistake, he was back. He slipped through the door, his face flushed. He looked upset.
“Are you okay?” Charlotte reached for him. “I was worried…”
“I’m sorry,” Declan crawled back into bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I left to get us breakfast from the house, since your fridge is always empty. I ran into my dad. He just really irritates me. But you don’t need to be worried, I was coming right back.”
She nuzzled herself against his chest, the memory of holding onto him for dear life as he made her come still fresh on her mind
. Her inner thighs twitched at the thought.
“I’m so glad,” she said. “I missed you. Even for just a few minutes.”
She looked up to meet his gaze and he kissed her softly, growing hard beneath the sheet and the feel of her skin against him.
“You’re still naked,” he whispered against her hair. “Do you know what that does to me?”
“Show me,” she said, straddling him. “I need you again. I’ve never had sex in the morning, after all.”
Declan had never been with a girl that made him constantly want her. He’d been with girls before and he’d had his fun, but he was always glad to see them leave afterward. With Charlotte it was different. She was the high he never wanted to come down from.
That morning, after making love again, they laid next to one another, panting and smiling, watching the ceiling fan whirl above them.
“What have you done to me?” Declan said out loud.
Charlotte smiled. “What have we done to each other?”
Declan pulled her toward him. “I want to take you to breakfast.”
“It would be more like brunch now,” Charlotte pointed out. “Or early lunch. But I’ll take you up on it.”
