Edge of Recovery (Love on the Edge)

by Molly Lee

It was my turn to laugh at his audacity. “Yeah, because they’d believe me. Plus, he’s got guards in his pocket. Who knows how deep his reach runs.”

  “Fuck, man.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I assured him. “Are we good?” I asked, and dared to extend my hand.

  He looked at the offer like it was covered in acid but latched on to it and shook it so hard my fingers cracked. I jerked my hand back and shook it out, locking every reflex in my muscle that screamed to retaliate.

  You deserve it. Take it like a man.

  “Stay clean, Justin.” He didn’t bother answering my question, and I couldn’t really blame him. Lucky for me it wasn’t his forgiveness I had sought today. “You might want to get wherever you’re going, quick. A storm is coming.” He glanced at the sky before looking back down at me. “And send word when you have the shit settled, okay?”

  I nodded, already heading toward Charlie’s bug. “Good luck with your show,” I said, motioning toward the house.

  His eyes turned to slits before he turned on his heel and stomped back up the porch steps.

  What’s that about?

  None of my business, again, thank God. I had enough to deal with on my own and now that he had a heads up, I breathed easier. He would never let anything happen to Blake. I knew that as sure as I knew I wouldn’t let anything happen to Charlie.

  I slipped into the passenger seat and arched my head back on the headrest, letting out a long breath.

  “Looked like it went well,” she said, her voice soothing every aching, locking muscle I had.

  “It did,” I said and for the first time since I could remember, I felt like I could really breathe. I glanced back up toward the house. Blake was pulling Hail away from the giant window overlooking the porch, a fat pink tongue lapping at the glass where Dash sat on the porch swing.

  “Huh,” I said, rubbing the center of my chest.

  “What is it?” Charlie asked, starting the car.

  “Nothing.” I smiled at her. Seeing Hail, seeing Blake, it should’ve been a sure-fire recipe for the voices, the sounds, the images of that not one hour ago had been haunting me when we pulled up to this place—but I looked at the dog now, looked at the girl I’d used to love, and didn’t flinch.

  Thanks, Blake.

  Her gift. That was the explanation for the sense of freedom I felt stirring in my blood. It made me dizzy with possibilities, with hope, and with the realization that when I was clean, clear, anything could happen.

  9

  Direct Amends

  “Damn it!” Charlie snapped from her hunched position over the steering wheel. “Your chaser friend wasn’t joking.” She squinted like that would help her see through the torrential rain beating against her windshield.

  “He’s not my friend!” I held on to the ohshit handle, shouting to be heard over the thunder that shook her tiny car. A crack of lightning lit up the sky like a blinding firework. The thunder that followed made me fucking jump and all my muscles tensed. How the fuck could anyone choose to chase this? I shook my head and gripped the handle tighter.

  “Oh to hell with this,” she said, pulling into the right lane and taking the next exit.

  “This isn’t our exit.” I pointed out. “We’re still half an hour away from the facility.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not driving in this shit. Grab my cell, will you?” She motioned toward the backpack purse thing she always carried around, and I timidly reached inside, thankful her cell was on top. “Find Thomas’ number and put it on speaker.”

  “Why do you have his number?” I asked, punching it.

  “You sound jealous.” She chuckled, but the booming thunder swallowed it.

  “Where are you, Charlie?” Thomas didn’t bother to say hello.

  “I’m stuck in the middle of this crap, Thomas!” She shouted toward where I held the phone. “I’m not risking my life to make it home by curfew.”

  “You’re going to turn into a pumpkin.”

  “Don’t you mean my car will?” She chuckled, turning on a residential street.

  “To hell if I know. He still with you?”

  “No, he bolted. Think he’s drinking up more liquor than it is raining.”

  “Very funny, Charlie.” Thomas didn’t sound amused. “Justin?”

  “Present,” I said, unable to stop the grin on my face.

  “Good. Normally I wouldn’t allow this, but Charlie is my best sponsor and I can’t have her getting killed in a tornado.”

  “Are we in a watch?” I asked and then cringed. Fucking storms.

  “No. It’s just severe now, but the winds are taking cars off highways. Her bug won’t stand a chance.” He sighed, and I could see him fiddling with his cardigan behind his desk, all flustered about breaking the rules. “Charlie, are you near a hotel?”

  “Nope, something better.”

  “Your home?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Wonderful. Justin, best behavior. I’m trusting you to act like your within facility walls when you’re in her house. You understand?”

  “My house is cleaner than your facility, Thomas.” She pulled into a small driveway and killed the ignition. “We’re here.”

  “I expect Justin here for our eight a.m. session.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, though he hadn’t spoken to me and then hung up the phone.

  “Ready to get wet?” She asked, her fingers on the door handle.

  I chuckled, the lightning making the gold flecks in her green eyes burn.

  We opened our doors at the same time, instantly soaked by the cold rain as we made a run for it. She had her keys out and ready, but it still took her a good thirty seconds to get the door open. Her laugh filled the entryway as she tugged me inside and my own joined it.

  Our breaths matched in rapid succession from the shock of cold and the sprint.

  “Come on,” she said, hurrying through what looked like a small living room with a lone couch and a modest TV sitting on top of a cardboard box.

  I followed her into the kitchen as she flicked on the lights and tossed her soaking wet shoes against the door to what I assumed was her utility closet.

  “Put your boots over there too, please.”

  Thanks to the good leather, my socks were dry, but my jeans and shirt were soaked. Well, this would be a comfortable night.

  “Here,” she handed me an oversized kitchen towel, and I slid it over my face, hair, and arms as I sank into one of the two kitchen chairs positioned around a small wooden table on the opposite side of the room.

  She rung her blue hair out over the sink, squeezing it with a towel of her own, and I tried not to notice how much of her lacy purple bra I could see through her soaked white t-shirt.

  Fuck. My mouth watered and unrestrained want slammed through me as strong as the lightning that cracked outside.

  The lights flickered twice before they went out completely.

  That helped with the trying to not want her part…but even though I couldn’t see her I knew she was there, wet, cold, and we were alone in her house. Damn, this would be a long night.

  She clicked on her cell and lit up a drawer next to her, rummaging through it for a few minutes. I quickly stood up, offering her my cell’s light as well.

  “Ah, that’s better,” she said.

  I stood so close to her she brushed against me as she moved to strike a match, and it sent a warm shiver down my spine. I froze, this close to her, I could smell her strawberry scent, sense her every movement as she lit a few half-melted green candles and set them on the counter. The tiny flames barely illuminated the two of us but it was enough to catch her eyes as she turned around. She jumped slightly at my nearness, dropping the matches. As she bent to retrieve them, she slipped, her bare feet slick against the semi-wet floor, and I darted an arm out, catching her before she hit the floor. I straightened her, our bodies coming flush.

  “Well, this is terribly romantic, isn’t it?” She laughed, her green eyes slightly hoo
ded as they looked up at me.

  I couldn’t laugh. My heart pounded so hard against my chest I was sure she could feel it, that’s how close we were. The breath in my lungs stilled as I knew I needed to release her but didn’t want to.

  She pressed her lips together, placing the tips of her fingers on my chest. Walking them up, she lightly traced the stubble on my jaw, and I closed my eyes, slowly bringing my forehead to hers.

  I wouldn’t kiss her. I wouldn’t kiss her. I would just feel her, here, like this.

  She wrapped her hand around the back of my neck, gently using me to lift up on her tiptoes, nuzzling her nose against mine until I looked at her. She was a breath away, her lips a blink from mine.

  “Charlie,” I whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re dangerously tempting my control levels.” I practically growled the words, my head screaming to push her away, to take a giant leap backward before I lost control.

  “Justin.” Damn her. She purred my name, and it made my insides heat so much I didn’t feel the rain-soaked cold anymore. “You’re not dangerous.”

  “I am.” She knew everything there was to know about me. I had only one secret she didn’t know…how could she not realize how dangerous I was?

  “You’re not. Would I get this close if you were?”

  “Maybe you like it.”

  “What?”

  “Maybe you thrive off the danger. Like I do off the fights. Legal releases.”

  She shook her head. “Even if that were true,” she said, “It’s not in this case. Not with you.” She rubbed my chest, touching me despite me locking all my muscles, so I didn’t touch her. “I know your past. I know you better than anyone ever has, and I know we’re not allowed to do this, but for just tonight, could you…let go?”

  I huffed. “It’s not that simple. I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, clenching my eyes shut. Blake’s voice didn’t come like I thought it would, but I still knew.

  “You won’t---“

  “Don’t you get it, Charlie?” I cut her off. “I’ve never been intimate with anyone before. Ever. Not like I was supposed to. I only ever saw Blake’s back because I couldn’t stand my reflection in her eyes, the pain written all over her face. I refuse to do that to you. You mean too damn much to me!”

  “I’ve told you. You’re not that man anymore. Stop torturing yourself and let go.”

  I flexed my jaw, swallowing the words I wanted to say—excuses. Every reason I should shove her away could all boil down to my own fear. I was terrified to lose her, in any capacity.

  “Don’t you trust me?” She asked, her eyes open and aware and completely wanting.

  Still, I couldn’t answer. I did. I trusted her with everything but this…this was a spot of darkness I didn’t know how to do differently.

  “Not as your sponsor but as a woman who wants you? Wants to be with you, despite knowing all the reasons we can’t?”

  I sighed, my breath coming out in a twisted huff. She never missed a beat. Always saw right through my fears and cut to the heart of it.

  “Of course, I trust you. As my sponsor, as my…Charlie…but I won’t do this to you. I won’t risk your career, your connection with the clinic, all the people you’ll go on to help. You’re too good for that.”

  She reached her hand up, cupping my cheek. “I’m not your sponsor tonight, Justin. Tonight,” she sucked in a deep breath. “I’m simply your…Charlie,” she said, smiling as she repeated the term that had come out of my mouth seconds before.

  And with her words all my resolve snapped. The passion in her eyes, the spark in her fight for me, it shredded me. I grasped her wrist, stroking it before I placed one small soft kiss against her skin. She sighed like she’d been holding her breath.

  Intertwining our fingers, she slowly, almost timidly led me to a kitchen chair and shoved me down on it. I let her, my eyes devouring every single move she made. She never lost mine, moving inch by inch, like it was a calculation, and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it with a wet thwack on the tiled floor. She crossed her arms at the seam of hers and in one fluid motion, stripped herself of it, revealing the purple lace I’d only gotten a tease of and my mouth watered again, dying for a taste. A flicker of fear pulsed through my over sensitive body, floundering with how badly I wanted this woman…as if she was my next addiction.

  No, I wouldn’t let that happen. This was healthy. Dark, twisted, off-limits but healthier than anything I’d ever done in my life.

  Another smooth motion and the leggings were gone, leaving her bare to me except for a matching lace thong, and there was nothing I could do to hide how hard I was for her just from looking. She licked her lips, leaning over me just enough for the tips of her hair to brush the skin of my chest. Her delicate fingers found my hands and pushed them behind the chair, forcing them around the wooden bars that made up the back.

  “Hold on to these until I tell you not to,” she said, no demanded. I gripped the bars, only lifting slightly to allow her to strip me of my jeans.

  She held the wet denim to her chest, letting her eyes graze over my body in a slow trail, before throwing them to the side. I tightened my grip on the bars as she came nearer, wanting to reach out and yank her to me but resisting for the mere reason that she’d told me not to, and I trusted her.

  “So many scars,” she said, tracing the pad of her finger over every raised scar I had on my chest, my abs, my right arm.

  “You too,” I said, motioning with my head to the tiny silver-like scars on her arms and tummy.

  “It’s like we’ve been living side by side for much longer than we’ve ever known.” She quickly yanked off my wet briefs, leaving me bare to her.

  I hissed as she settled a leg on either side of my hips, the warmth from her pussy radiating through her thin thong. Damn. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself not to move against her when all I wanted was to lift my hips and press my hard cock against her.

  “Agree.” I finally managed to say.

  Chills erupted underneath her slow, soft touches as she trailed her fingers over my collarbone, down the center of my abs, over my hips, and finally, over the tip of my covered cock.

  “Are you feeling dangerous?” She asked, working her touch back up to my lips as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “Yes.” She’d reduced me to one-worded answers, my every thought switched to the sensory. The feel of her silky skin against mine, the slight weight of her body as she straddled me, the rough lace against my bare chest.

  “Are you going to take me now?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” she smirked, the demoness, and rolled her hips against my cock wrenching a growl from my lips.

  “Because.”

  She ground against me, once, twice, and with more pressure. “Why not?”

  I hissed, gripping the bars behind my back so hard I feared I would break them in half. She lightly nipped at my bottom lip and fisted my hair, yanking my head back so I looked her in the eyes. “Why not, Justin?”

  The bite in her touch and her voice made me roar on the inside, the beast inside me dying for release, dying to sink its teeth into her. She jerked my hair again and pleasure rolled through each muscle in my body. “You haven’t asked me to, Charlie!” I growled.

  “Ahh.” She smiled a devilish grin and sank down on top of me, unmoving, cupping my face in her hands. “You see? You still think you’re the only one in this room with a bit of monster hiding inside them? If I was a good person, I wouldn’t want you the way I do. I’d tell the Doc I’m willing to cross lines with you, to have you—which could very well fuck with your recovery. But, you? Touching me, taking me, loving me? It’s the only thing I am sure about these days.”

  I hated the look in her eyes. I hated her plea for me to touch her, take her. Hated that something that was so right—we were so right for each other—would make her feel so bad.

  She rolled her hips once more. “Now, Justin. Please, touch me.
” She reached behind me and unlatched my hands from the bars, placing them on her covered breasts.

  “Fuck, Charlie.” I still wouldn’t move. “Are you sure?” I wouldn’t make the mistake of not knowing what a woman wanted again. She would say it. Again and again if I needed her to.

  “Yes, please. I want you to touch me. Take me.”

  That was all I needed. I instantly claimed her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue and sucking it into my mouth like I was starving. And I was, fuck I was. She tasted sweeter than I imagined and met my fierce hunger with her own. I tangled my fingers into her hair, angling her head so I could get deeper, stroking her tongue with my own until she bucked against me.

  I grazed my hands over her silky skin, relishing the slight raisings from her scars, so different from my own and yet we were more the same than anyone I’d ever been with. She liked the bite, the sting of my teeth nipping at the flesh of her neck, the tops of her breasts. Quickly unsnapping her bra, she moaned when I took one of her nipples in my mouth and rolled it with my tongue before biting it gently.

  “God, yes.” Her words made me ache to the point of pain. I sank my hand between us, slipping my fingers inside the lace of her panties, catching her eyes as I did.

  “Charlie?”

  “Yes, Justin. Fuck, yes.” She shifted against me, forcing my hand to feel how wet she was.

  I slid my fingers against her warmth, teasing her clit until she writhed on top of my hand, her thighs clenching on either side of me. She sucked on my bottom lip, keening slightly as I touched her, memorizing every inch of her body.

  “More,” she said, sighing into my mouth. “I want all of you.”

  “Condom?” I asked, completely unprepared.

  “Same drawer as the candles.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” I laughed, holding her to me as I stood from the chair. She locked her ankles around my hips, biting my earlobe as I walked us over to the drawer. I jerked it open, feeling around until I found the glorious foil packet. She ground against me as I held her to me, and I growled. “You are the perfect woman.”

  She unclasped her legs and slid down me slowly, allowing me to feel every inch of her. She snatched the packet out of my hand, shoving me with her palm back into the chair. “Off.” She snapped her fingers, and I shucked my briefs off like they were on fire.