by Anne Conley
She quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ritalin. Adult ADHD.” He responded to the unasked question with a shrug. “Helps with my Chihuahua like behavior.”
A wan smile flitted across her face, but the sadness was back in her eyes. He felt the uncontrollable desire to wipe the sadness away.
So he kissed her.
It was supposed to just be a reassuring kiss, a meeting of two pairs of lips imparting comfort. But her responsiveness, the way she opened to him and clutched his shirt sent waves of euphoria rippling through him. His hands tangled in the silky hair streaming down her back. The way she tasted reminded him of lazy days by the aquifer, sitting in the sunshine without a care in the world. He wanted her to feel that carefree. With him.
He broke away from the kiss, and her mouth followed his backward, suckling his bottom lip in a move that had his cock throbbing.
“Make love to me,” she breathed into his mouth. His hands gripped her hair tighter, unconsciously, as he stammered to find words.
She was too vulnerable, too fragile for sex right now. It would send all the wrong messages—that he just wanted her for sex, that he didn’t cherish her enough to give her the space she needed after her revelation, that he wouldn’t be here for the rest of her life.
While he was trying to come up with the words to tell her no, she was kissing his neck, branding him with her hot little mouth.
“Please…Nobody’s ever done it to me before.” She looked up at him through the lashes of her lowered lids, “You’d be my first.”
All of the words he’d been trying to come up with fled his mind at the look of carnal desire on her flushed face.
He’d make love to her until she couldn’t remember her own damned name.
Charlie was emotionally depleted after the events of the day. She’d told Les things her therapists didn’t even know. She’d been sure he’d run, but he’d kissed her instead.
Charlie didn’t just feel safe with Les. She didn’t just feel cherished. She just felt. He made her feel. Everything.
When his lips landed on hers, she’d been accepted, for the first time in her life, for everything she’d ever been. His expressions were written all over his face as she’d told her story, but for the first time ever, pity wasn’t there. There was no shame in his gaze. He didn’t feel sorry for her. Only sympathy and compassion.
And love.
Charlie had always dealt with her emotions with sex. It was the only thing she’d really known to do, once she got off all the drugs. But Les made her want more than just sex, and as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, butterflies erupted in her belly at what was coming next.
He was taking her request seriously, and Charlie was excited for the new experience she was going to have. She wasn’t sure what to expect, besides what she’d seen in movies, and what she’d already experienced with him.
As he laid her on her bed ever so gently, she saw in his eyes the determination to make this experience one she would remember forever.
She watched him as he surveyed the situation. His eyes roamed across her body, and she could see his plan forming. He seemed so casual, so care-free, but Charlie knew that Les rarely went into things without some sort of game plan. So she waited, her breasts heaving as she gulped air she couldn’t find. His chocolate stare was intense and sucked the oxygen right out of the room.
He put one knee on the bed, leaning over her, and ran the palms of his rough hands down her calves to remove her sandals. Situating himself between her knees, his gentle hands ran up her legs, raising the skirt of her dress up to her thighs, before slowly rubbing them down to her ankles, where he raised first one, then the other, to his lips for a warm, wet, kiss.
Who knew? The heat of his mouth on her tender skin sent goose bumps racing up her legs. His wholly focused gazed followed the path they traveled to a place Charlie couldn’t see under her skirt. Les’s eyes darkened, shining brightly with lust, as they focused on the spot under her skirt where the bumps on each leg met.
His finger tip traced the tattoo on her leg, focusing on the word Les. His name. When he spoke, his voice was a sexy murmur, sending more goose bumps across her flesh.
“A friend of mine once told me my girl was out there. That I would find a woman with my name written all over her.” His lips lowered to her thigh, where the ink was imbedded in her skin. “I didn’t realize she was so literal.” His hot tongue traced the lettering. “Or psychic.”
His palms continued lifting her skirt, until her panties were exposed, and Les’s head dropped to them, sniffing and rubbing his mouth over the soft fabric. Charlie unconsciously arched under him, to increase the pressure, but it didn’t help. It was consuming her, and the heat was rising. The feel of his hands on her body coupled with the heat of his breath as he exhaled was making her crazy. She squirmed.
“Les…”
“Shh… You have to let me do this.” His palms continued on their quest, raising her dress further up her torso, until he cupped her breasts. His mouth followed, but rested near her belly button, breathing into the skin on her belly, while his tongue swirled around the concave before dipping in. The sensation sent more heat spiraling to her toes. Her knees bent, closing around Les’s torso, while he invaded her senses through her belly button.
Les spent a lot of time on her torso, his body hovering over hers as he rested his weight on his elbows. She had scars there. Scars from beatings, burns from cigarettes, and cuts from herself. Les branded every single one of them gently with his mouth, tongue, and lips. Acknowledging her past with his lips, cherishing with his tongue, and finally, accepting it by gently suckling with his mouth before smoothing over her past with his fingertips.
As he moved across her belly and up her chest, Charlie’s fingers delved into his hair, twisting the soft curls around her fingers and tugging gently. She could feel Les’s breathing as it got ragged on her skin, but his touch was too soft, too gentle. She thought she would go mad.
His mouth finally made it to her breasts, and by the time it did, the warm wetness was a shock, sending pulses to her core as he squeezed and molded them between his thick fingers before kissing, licking, and sucking them. His tongue swirled around the skin, leaving paths of heat, branding her in a way no one had ever claimed her before. By the time his mouth finally clamped over a nipple, Charlie was coming undone so fast she could hardly breathe, and cried out his name as the sensations completely overwhelmed her.
Les finally looked up at her over the mound of her skin he had clamped between his lips. He gently gripped it between his teeth and smiled around the erect nipple, sucking in a breath that sent a shudder wracking through her body with its chill on her heated skin.
She gripped his hair tighter, watching his eyes as they deepened with intensity on her own. He let go of her nipple, and as she urged his head toward hers, he claimed her mouth in a savage kiss full of need and desire.
He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Her hands scrambled at his clothes, trying to tear them off, but he stilled her, clasping her hands in his.
“Slowly… We have time,” he whispered against her mouth, before brushing his lips against hers again. He pulled her dress the rest of the way over her head as she forced herself to slowly unbutton the shirt he was wearing. She made herself take a breath between each button, slowing the experience. His knuckles grazed her skin, tracing her curves while his eyes were focused solely on her. She continued in her endeavors to unbutton the shirt, while trying to ignore the distractions of his fingers on her skin. When she got his shirt open, he shed it, and reached over his head to pull off his tee shirt.
Charlie’s eyes zeroed in on his tattoo on his chest, as soon as it was exposed. Tentatively, she reached out for it as Les froze above her. When she flattened her palm over it, feeling his heart beating under the warm, inked skin, her eyes rose to his. The love she didn’t feel deserving of shone from the depths of his scrutiny, bringing a tear to her eye, which he promptly
smoothed away with his thumb.
“Not tonight, Sweetness,” he smiled down at her, reminding her of their endeavors. Eagerly, she moved to his belt, freeing the clasp before working on the button and zipper underneath.
Les had to get off the bed and shuck his jeans and boots before climbing back on top of her, but when he lowered himself against her body, the warmth of his skin flooded her senses. She closed her eyes and let his smell wash over her. Les’s scent of sawdust and unadulterated man sent a shock of lust coursing through her writhing limbs.
After pressing another kiss to her lips, Les whispered, “Just relax, Charlie. For once, let me just love you.” Then he resumed his trail-blazing as his mouth resumed his path back down her body. He peeled her panties off, slowly, kissing her mound as he spread her thighs with his rough palms. She arched her back, unable to relax. She almost laughed at the demand. As if it was possible.
Her hands strayed to his hair, holding his head while her hips gyrated under his mouth. He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow before his hands rose to her pelvis, holding her still. He attacked her with renewed vigor, intent on her pleasure. She could tell he was listening to her gasps and moans, the unseen roadmap. She was telling him what she wanted without actually telling him, her erratic breathing the “right there, harder, don’t stop,” that he needed to do a great job. As he’d done before, Les teased her, bringing her to the edge of climax before backing off and moving his tongue elsewhere to focus before going back to bring her to the brink again. And again. And again.
Charlie was flying. She’d been so close so many times she couldn’t remember her name, let alone where she was, although everything looked familiar and comforting. This man between her legs was amazing with his tongue, his eyes closed in rapt concentration. When he finally let her fall over the edge, Charlie leapt off the chasm with abandon, her limbs spastically clamping on whatever they could in an attempt to find reality again. Her thighs squeezed Les’s face uncontrollably while her fingers fisted his hair. He groaned, but she didn’t think it was from discomfort; the look in his eyes as they flew open and landed on her was too feral, too wild. Too wanton.
Quickly, he crawled up her body, and his mouth crashed against hers, the taste of her climax on his tongue as it swept through her mouth, claiming her.
His hands above her head rustled with the foil packet of a condom and he leaned on her body while he put it on, continuing to kiss her neck and shoulders. When his arms came around her body, his mouth brushed against her lips again as he poised himself at her entrance. He cradled her body in his strong embrace just as he entered her, both of them moaning at the penetration.
Les filled her body, then stilled while Charlie clamped her arms and legs around him, wanting to touch him with as much skin as possible. He rocked in and out of her slowly, laying soft kisses on her skin with each thrust, murmuring sweet words to her while she held on tight.
He was conquering her body with his movements, his kisses, his words. Charlie’s lust was melting into an unrecognizable puddle under Les’s ministrations. This was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. He demanded acquiescence from her, so she submitted. She wasn’t in control, had never been in control with Les, no matter how hard she’d tried. She’d tried to push him away from the very beginning, but he hadn’t let her. He’d stuck with her, knowing her better than she knew herself, forcing her to let him have her.
And now that she’d given herself to him, she never wanted him to let her go. She whimpered as she felt his length capture her insides, rubbing against the spots she needed soothed. Looking at Les, she found him staring at her, dominating her with his eyes. Loving her.
His hands clutched her against his body as he moved against her, his length filling and emptying her. Her whimpers turned to gasping moans, and she closed her eyes against his intense stare.
“Look at me…” he whispered. When she did, he continued his murmurs. “…so beautiful…”
Charlie had never felt so much before, had never realized this much emotion was possible. It was all so intense; she didn’t know how to handle it. His skin rubbed against hers as she thrashed beneath him, unable to be still while her hands groped at his back, hips, ass, neck, anywhere. She wanted to feel all of him. Everywhere.
He increased his thrusts, and she felt herself climbing higher, her insides swelling as she gripped him with her inner muscles.
“Ah… fuck, Charlie…” His hands clutched her shoulders so tightly she was sure she’d have marks there tomorrow, but didn’t care. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his face to hers for a kiss as she exploded around him, sucking his tongue into her mouth, hard, as she came. He froze inside her as she pulsed around him before pounding inside her until he found his own release, groaning a guttural, growling noise into her mouth as he did. She swallowed it all greedily, still clutching at him with every muscle she could until he collapsed around her, their sweaty bodies entwined.
Charlie very rarely slept until the sun hit her face in bed, but after being woken up numerous times for Les to prove his love to her physically, and her own eager participation, Charlie was exhausted. When the hot light streamed through the curtains and hit her lids, she raised them groggily.
Les stared at her, wearing a goofy grin.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he drawled in a husky voice, laden with sleep.
She stretched and curled into his arms, feeling the warmth of him next to her, not being bothered by their nudity in the least.
“Mornin’,” she yawned at him.
His kiss on her forehead roused her enough to realize she smelled coffee. “Did you make coffee?”
He nodded, his grin turning smug as he reached over her for a cup on her side of the bed. Something about the ease of the movement made Charlie suddenly feel the intense perfection of this morning. Waking up with Les next to her, holding her, handing her coffee as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
She took a tentative sip, testing the heat before taking a larger gulp.
“I’ve got to go to church with my parents. Do you want to come?” he asked hesitantly.
She thought about it. It couldn’t be too bad, could it? Les wasn’t one of those evangelicals who preached at her every chance he got. But he was still strong in his faith, and Charlie could see the benefits of belief in something like that. She remembered dinner with his parents last Friday, and the feelings it stirred in her. They were issues she needed to address eventually, her lack of worthiness due to an overwhelming lack of family. Church with his family sounded frighteningly intimate on a level she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
“Maybe another time, okay?” He smiled and nodded at her before squeezing her tightly.
“I figured. No big deal. But it’s a standing offer. Anytime.” He rolled over and got out of bed and Charlie immediately missed his lack of cocooning warmth. “I’ve got to go home afterward and lay down some lyrics. Can I see you tonight?”
“Where is home? I’ve never been there.”
“It’s a little rent-house behind the diner. No big deal.” He shrugged as he pulled on his jeans.
“You’re a builder and you live in a rent house?”
“Yeah, well…Not really enough time, you know?”
After pulling on his shirt, he stooped down and claimed her mouth with a thorough kiss. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you later, Charlie.” And with that, he was gone.
Charlie languished in her bed for a few more minutes, listening to him clamber down the stairs and out the door, an idea forming in her mind. She heard his truck start, and she pulled on her robe. Clasping her cup of coffee, she walked from room to room of the upstairs of her house.
When she’d moved in, she’d had no idea what to do with all the space. She’d furnished a living room, a kitchen, and her office. Upstairs, she had a bedroom and a bathroom, furnished and well-lived in. She still had a formal dining room, an extra living area, and three more bedrooms to make use of. But by h
erself, she still hadn’t figured out what exactly to do with them.
This house had been a dream come true. It had amazing features—most built in by the original owners—like the wooden accent pieces, fireplaces in almost every room, dormers for ventilation above the doors, and built-in bookshelves. Her office, which used to be a formal living room, had beautiful molding accents, as well as the formal dining room. And then there were the third floor servants’ bedrooms, accessible by stairs off the kitchen, which she currently used for storage.
Was she moving too fast? She hadn’t even really told Les how she felt, even though she was just now realizing she’d been feeling it for a while now. They’d known each other for months, had expressed interest in each other since the trip, and everything about him told her they were meant to be together, from the compatibility of their interests, to his complete and infallible understanding of her past.
And the fact that she’d fallen in love with him.
And for the first time in her life, she knew what to do with that emotion.
With an uncharacteristic bounce in her step, Charlie strode toward the bathroom to get ready for some errands before seeing Les this afternoon.
She made it to the only house behind the diner that could be Les’s. His old pickup, minus a hood, front fender, two side panels and a tailgate, sat up on blocks in the driveway, painted an attractive primer-gray. The front door was open to the early summer breeze, and the strums of guitar music floated through the open doors and windows. Yup. This had to be it.
She let herself into the ultimate bachelor pad: mismatched, yet clean and comfortable furniture was lined up against the walls in the living room, all facing the largest flat-screen TV she’d ever seen, complete with a state of the art surround sound system mounted in the corners of the room. Some sort of video games littered the floor around a couple of bean bags. Thank goodness there weren’t any beer bottles or pizza boxes littering the room, or else she might be having second thoughts about her grand gesture.
