I pulled my mouth off his cock, kissing the base. “I want that, too. I want you inside me. I want to feel like we’re part of each other, connected . . .” I slithered up his body. “And I want it now.”
He gave a strangled laugh. “Let’s be efficient, then. You lose the underwear and I’ll find the condom.”
Charlie hopped off the bed, opening the duffel bag he’d packed for the trip, while I slid off my panties and kicked them away. I took the opportunity to push the quilted coverlet out of the way, too, and knock some of the pillows off the bed. By the time he returned to me, I was sprawled on the sheets, waiting.
He tore open the packet and handed me the latex disc. “Put it on me?”
“Mmmmm.” I rose to my knees as Charlie settled onto his back. “With pleasure.” I positioned the condom over the head of his dick and rolled it down, brushing my fingers up and down his shaft.
“Vivian.” He sat up, his arms holding me. “What you said earlier . . . about experience. Every time you touch me, everything you do, it’s beyond anything I could ever imagine, because it’s you. It’s more than sex. It’s more than you making me feel good. It’s you and it’s me, and it’s us. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, and holding you is . . . it’s the hottest, sexiest thing I’ve ever known. You take my breath away.”
I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat. “I only want you, Charlie. Only ever you.”
His eyes softened, and he drew me closer, kissing my lips with tenderness and promise. His hand ventured down between our bodies, sliding into my folds and finding the small button of nerves that ached for his touch.
“You’re so wet for me.” He murmured the words into my cheek as I writhed against his fingers. “So ready.” He slid two fingers into me, his thumb still working my clit. “I want to feel you come apart around me this time. I want your pussy to squeeze my cock when we both come. I need to be inside you now.”
He didn’t need to convince me. My blood was pounding through my veins, and need was all I knew. I rose up on my knees while Charlie grasped his dick, rubbing the head over me and positioning himself at my entrance. I sank down onto him, both of us sucking in a deep breath as our bodies joined.
I held onto his shoulders for dear life, riding him, finding the perfect movement. Charlie lowered his mouth to my breasts and sucked one nipple, while his hand ventured between us to rub relentlessly against my clit.
“So good, babe. So perfect. I want to be in you forever.” His lips traveled up over my chest and neck and face.
“I need you deeper,” I moaned. “I feel like I can’t quite—this way—”
In one swift movement, Charlie flipped us over so that I was on my back. He hiked my legs around his hips, and the shift in position changed everything. Suddenly he felt bigger, harder and so much deeper in me. He growled into my neck.
“I’m close, baby. So fucking close. God, you make me feel so good.”
“Yes . . .” I hissed out the single word. “Harder. Deeper. Make me come. Make me come so hard . . .”
His thrusts became more deliberate and swift, his pubic bone hitting me in the perfect place. When the head of his cock stroked over one particular spot inside me, I detonated, my body arching as I cried out his name and dug my fingers into his ass, holding him to me as I pulsed around him.
With one final plunge, he groaned, “Vivian.” His entire body stiffened into a solid muscle as he came, his face buried in my hair.
It took several moments before the world stopped spinning around me, before I could breathe with any kind of regularity, before I remembered my own name. All I knew was Charlie, inside me and around me and over me, and he was all I ever wanted to know.
“Vivian.” He breathed my name, brushing my hair out of my face. “My God.”
“I know.” I was clinging, but I didn’t care. “I had no idea it could be like that. And I’m not just saying that because you’re, like, a stud master. But you are. And I think now I’m addicted.”
“If you’re going to be addicted to anything, babe, be addicted to me. To this.” He nudged my head closer to his and kissed me again. “Because I’m totally strung out on you. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”
“I didn’t think it could ever happen this way.” I let my fingers roam down his back, tracing the bumps of his spine. “I never thought I’d find someone who I wanted who’d want me, too. I assumed it was always . . . I don’t know. More one-sided than not. One caring more than the other.”
Charlie rolled a little so that we lay on our sides, facing each other. “What made you think that?”
I shrugged. “It was my experience. When I liked someone, when I was attracted to a guy, he never felt the same way. And the boys—and then the men—who asked me out weren’t the ones I would have chosen. I usually ended up liking them all right once we started seeing each other, but it wasn’t the same.”
“Oh. I think I see what you mean.” He played with the curling ends of my hair. “I guess it’s different with guys. I always figured if I asked a girl out and she said yes, she must’ve liked me, too. But thinking back, maybe that wasn’t always the case.”
“Oh, I can’t imagine any girl not thinking you were totally hot and hoping you were going to make a move.” I traced his jaw.
“And I can’t see how any guy wouldn’t fall for you right away. I know I did.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
“Oh, you so did not.” I gave him a mock glare. “The first time you saw me, you gave me the weirdest look. I remember, even if you don’t.”
Charlie shifted a little, running his hand down my arm. “You’re talking about the turtle day. That wasn’t the first time I saw you.”
I frowned. “Yes, it was. Unless you caught sight of me around Aunt Gail’s before then, and even so . . . I’d only been home for a couple of days at that point.”
“It wasn’t in Florida.” His eyes flickered up to mine, and I saw there a tiny bit of uncertainty. “I probably should’ve mentioned this sooner, but it never came up, and . . . I don’t know. I didn’t think of it.”
“Now you’re freaking me out.” I pulled back my head so that I could see him better. “Spill it, dude. When was the first time you saw me?”
A smile played around his lips. “The weekend before you saw me the first time, I’d taken a quick trip up north. My sister Ainsley—she’s the oldest one—had her engagement party on that Friday night in Manhattan. Grampy insisted he had to be there, so we flew up together, went to the party, and then the next day, we flew home. Back to Florida.” His tongue darted to run over his lips. “Grampy was waiting for me by the entrance to security while I checked our bags that day. I was in this long line, and it was held up even more because of this woman at the front who refused to pay extra for her bag being overweight.”
“Oh, my God.” I turned my head to bury my face in the pillow. “Oh. My. God. You were there? That day at the airport? You saw that happen, and you’re still here with me, now? You must be insane. Or a glutton for punishment.”
“This is how I remember that day.” Charlie tucked my hair behind my ear and tickled my neck until I was forced to meet his eyes. “I was in line, and all these people were grousing about some chick who was holding us up. I didn’t pay much attention until finally I managed to catch a glimpse of her. Here was this absolutely drop-dead gorgeous woman, facing off with the baggage agent, and she had her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. I watched her stand her ground, and I watched as she found a way around the stupid rule. And when she walked away, with her backpack and all her clothes in her arms—and with her pride intact, I might add—I wanted to run after her.”
“But you didn’t.” I hoped and prayed that he hadn’t seen me after that. I remembered all too well how ridiculous I’d looked with all of those clothes on my body. I didn’t want Charlie to have to contend with that mental image of me.
“I didn’t because I knew Grampy was waiting and I had to get our bags checked. But I
kept looking for you. I searched when we were going through security, and then at the gate, but you must have been on a different flight.”
“Thank God for small favors,” I murmured. “That was not my best day ever.”
“I thought I saw you at the airport in Florida, coming into the baggage claim as Grampy and I were going out, but I wasn’t sure.” His lips twitched. “If it was you, I figured out pretty quick how you’d managed to get on the plane with all the clothes you’d pulled out of your checked bag.”
“I’m mortified,” I moaned. “How on earth could you have seen me that day and found me attractive?”
“How could I not?” Charlie countered. “You had this amazing passion, something I could see even in those few minutes. I saw you and thought, holy shit. Now there’s a woman.” He dropped a light kiss on my lips. “Now, I would like to say I couldn’t stop thinking about you, but honestly, if we hadn’t ever met, you probably would’ve faded to a vague memory. But then that day, with the turtle . . . you got out of the car, and for a minute, I thought I was hallucinating. At first, I thought it couldn’t possibly be you. But then I got a good look at your eyes, and I knew it was.”
“What are the odds?” I sighed. “I’d hoped I could forget that day.”
“But now I never will, because it’s the day I saw you. Not the day I met you, and of course, that was the more important day. Because it’s the you inside who I fell in love with, Vivian. I admired the flashing eyes and the cute little ass and the nice rack, but it was the laughing girl who sat on my lawn and was terrified of a snake and was sweet to my grandfather who won my heart.”
I stared at him. “You fell in love with me? Do you mean that for real, or is it just a figure of speech? You know, like, oh, Vivian, you’re so funny, I love you.”
Charlie laughed. “Baby, only you could worry about the semantics. When I said I fell in love with you, I meant . . .” He pushed up to lean his head on his hand, elbow bent against the mattress. “I meant, I love you. I could wait a month or six months or a year to say it, if it makes you trust me more, but it’s true now, and it’ll be true then.” He touched my lips with his finger tip. “And you don’t have to say anything back to me. I’m cool knowing how I feel.”
“If I say it now, will you believe me?” I whispered. “Or should I wait, just to make it more legit?”
“If you feel it, then tell me. I’ll always believe you.” He gazed down at me with utter trust.
“I think . . . I think I’ve been falling in love with you for a long time. Since that first day, when you helped us save the turtle. I’ve been falling in love with the kind, steady, sexy guy you are. I’ve been falling in love with the man who makes me feel more of who I am, instead of less.” I touched his cheek. “But I’m scared, Charlie. Everything in my world feels as though it’s been tipping and tilting since I got back to Florida. You’re steady, and I’m holding tight to that. But what if this is too fast for both of us? What if it burns hot, and then afterward, you realize I’m not really that woman in the airport who you admired? What if I’m just me, a very broken, very imperfect girl who’s trying to figure out her life?”
“Vivian, I hate to break it to you, but even if I love you, I don’t think you’re perfect. And I know for a fact that I’m not perfect in any way, shape or form. But I’m pretty sure my jagged edges fit together with yours. It could be that neither of us are perfect, but together we could be pretty fucking amazing.”
How in the world was I supposed to resist sweet talk like that? The only decent response was the one I gave him: I framed his face with both of my hands and kissed him until nothing else existed beyond the two of us and that moment.
“IS MY UNDERWEAR OVER BY you?” I lifted the bed covers and peered under them, searching for my missing panties.
“I don’t see any underwear.” Charlie moved the pillows back onto the bed, shaking each one. “Maybe they’re under the bed?”
“I’ll check.” I dropped to my hands and knees, feeling twinges in sensitive parts of my body. It was nearly noon, check out time at the Hawthorne House, and Charlie and I were scrambling to be ready to leave. We’d definitely made the most of our night here . . . I was pleasantly sore, completely sated and happier than I ever remembered being.
Now if only I could find my underwear . . .
“Vivian, your phone’s buzzing.” Charlie’s voice floated down to where I lay half-way under the bed. “Looks like a text.”
“Can you check and see who it is? Aunt Gail may be wondering when we’re coming home. Or it could be my mom, checking in from a Civil War battlefield somewhere.” I scanned the hardwood floor beneath the elevated bed. “Dang. I don’t see my panties here. Where could they have gone? Maybe they got stuffed into your bag.”
“Uh, Vivian, who’s Kyle?” Charlie sounded curious, although there was a slight undertone in his voice.
I frowned as I crawled backwards until my head had cleared the side rails. Standing up, I shrugged. “Kyle? I don’t . . . oh.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, that Kyle. He’s a client at Mr. Edguardo’s. Well, not him. His dog Bella is our client.”
“He’s texting to see if you’re still on for your coffee date this week.” Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Did you make a date with him?”
“Shit.” I leaned against the end of the bed. “I did, but it was weeks ago. Before you and I—well, before we went out for the first time.”
“Uh huh. So, were you interested in this guy? Clearly you must have liked him on some level, since you agreed to the date.” A muscle twitched in Charlie’s cheek.
“No, I wasn’t interested. Not really. He was just . . . a potential frog.”
Charlie cocked his head. “A frog? Is that some kind of woman lingo I don’t understand?”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s a long story. Let’s check out, and I’ll tell you all about it on our way home.”
It took me the first fifteen minutes of our ride back to Summer Meadows to give Charlie a brief overview of the fifty frogs plan. I kept it as simple as I could, explaining about Aunt Gail’s theory of kissing frogs, the idea of an article that delved into the intricacies of dating in the twenty-first century and my halting attempts to kiss a lot of frogs. I hadn’t gotten into too many details about the frogs themselves.
He was silent for several miles. “Did you see me as a frog?”
That was an easy answer. “Never. I’m not including you in the article, Charlie. What’s between us—what we have—it doesn’t have anything to do with this piece. I didn’t expect to meet you while I was writing it.”
“But you did date these frogs—these guys—after we met.” He slid me a sideways, questioning glance.
“Yes, I did. But I promise, Charlie, none of them meant anything to me. Believe me.” I gnawed on my lip. “You knew I was dating. The night you asked me out, I told you about my disastrous almost-date with Jon the grandson.”
“Jon the grandson? I assume there’s a story there.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“Yes, and it’s absolutely ridiculous. This whole scheme has been absolutely ridiculous. But it’s also been very telling about what happens between men and women these days. What started out as a silly idea could end up being the article that defines my career as a journalist.” I paused. “I’m going to write it, Charlie. It won’t have anything to do with you and me, but I need to tell this story. Like Lauren and Holly said, I need to do it if for no other reason than so women who are out there going through this know that they’re not alone. They can laugh at my misadventures instead of crying at their own.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure what to think. I didn’t have any clue that you were doing this. You never mentioned it to me.”
“Of course, I didn’t.” I crossed my arms. “What was I going to say? Oh, hey, we just met, but I think you should know I’m going on a series of first dates and then writing about them.”
“That day on Grampy’s lawn, before it s
tarted to rain, we talked about your work. You didn’t say anything.”
I held up one finger. “I told you I was working on a new piece that I hoped the new editor might want to run. I just didn’t tell you what it was about. Honestly, Charlie. Think about it. If I had laid it all on the line, you would’ve run screaming in the other direction. I would have come across like a crazy person. I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing, except for Aunt Gail, my mom and Teddi.”
“I guess I should take comfort in the fact that I’m not the only person you kept in the dark?” He snorted. “What about Kyle? What are you going to do about this date with him?”
I threw up my hands. “What do you think I’m going to do? I told you, I’ll cancel it. I don’t have any interest in this guy. He’s nice enough, I guess, but I wasn’t attracted to him at all, ever. He was too much like Jeremy. More important, he wasn’t you, and I already knew that I liked you more than anyone I’d ever met.”
“But not enough to change your mind about dating a bunch of different men.”
“Charlie, please. Be reasonable. I was actually planning to scrap the whole idea once you and I started dating. I haven’t met or dated anyone else since the night you asked me out. I wasn’t going to write the article, and then Karl called me the other day and told me that National Press Incorporated is very interested in it and wants to give it national coverage. National coverage, Charlie. Do you have any idea what this could mean to me?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I get it. It’s huge.”
“Yes, it is. But even then, I wasn’t sure until I talked to Lauren and Holly. They’re my audience. They’re the women who need to be part of this conversation.” Tears rose, filling my eyes. “I want to write this. I need to do it. But . . .” I swallowed. “If you tell me that it’s a deal breaker, that writing the article will change what’s between you and me, I’ll . . . I’ll think about it. I’ll reconsider. But I really hope you won’t do that to me.”
Charlie drew in a deep breath and exhaled long. He didn’t say anything else until we were turning into our neighborhood. When he stopped the car in front of Aunt Gail’s house, he turned in his seat to face me.
Fifty Frogs Page 19
