He yanked my coat off, and a second later I was pushed up against the door, my cheek against the cool wood, Charlie’s chest against my back. Again, he kicked my heel out so my legs were spread, and I flattened my palms on the door. His hands slid up the front of my thighs, my hips, my ribs. As one covered my breast, the other moved down between my legs, gripping me hard. I felt his breath on the back of my neck. “You’re under my skin,” he said quietly. Two fingers worked my black lace thong aside and slid easily inside me. “What am I going to do about that?”
I stayed quiet, my breath coming in quick little bursts. But my hips moved instinctively, riding his hand, pushing back against his erection, which I could feel through his pants. I reached behind me for his zipper.
“Oh, no.” Immediately he took my hand and put it back where it was on the door. “You don’t get to use your hands unless I say so. In fact…” Removing his fingers from me, he untied the pink satin ribbon from around my waist. “I’ve been looking at your pretty little ribbon all night, imagining the ways I could use it.” He took both wrists and brought them behind my back, pulling my arms so tight my fingertips grasped the opposite elbow. I gasped as he twined the ribbon around my forearms. When the knot was secure, he leaned against me again, putting his lips at my ear, his hand back between my legs. “There. Much better. Now I know you’ll behave.” His voice was smooth and low, deceptively calm. A knife sheathed in velvet.
“Charlie,” I panted. “I want to taste you. Let me.”
“You want to taste me?”
“Yes. I’ll behave. I’ll do what you say.” I struggled against him and managed to turn around so I was facing him. “Please.”
Taking my face in his hands, he crushed his mouth to mine, his tongue slashing through my open lips. A complete contrast to the way he’d kissed me an hour ago, this kiss was demanding and aggressive, as if he needed to make up for the uncharacteristic tenderness. As if to remind me who he really was. He kissed me so deep and hard I could barely breathe, and when he unsealed his mouth from mine, I gasped for air.
But I had no time to recover.
Charlie’s hand closed in the back of my hair. “Get on your knees.”
Heart pumping madly, I dropped to my knees on the wood floor and he unbuttoned his suit coat and undid his pants. A second later, he rubbed the tip of his cock along my lips. I let them fall open, gently shaking my head back and forth. Then I licked it, slow and sweet, swirling my tongue over and around the smooth head. I looked up at him, and although he was shadowy in the dark, I could see the white of his cuffs, the pocket square, the shirt and tie. God, he looks good in that suit. I want to rip it off him and lick every inch of his body. The thought inspired me to work him a little harder.
“Yes,” he whispered, “just like that.” He moved his hand up and down the shaft while I sucked the tip. His other hand held the back of my head, loosening the pins holding my hair up. “You want more, sweet thing?”
I nodded, and he pulled my head toward his hips, feeding his cock into my mouth. I was a little nervous about this since I knew how big he was, and I had no control over how much he tried to shove in. But he went slowly at first, stopping when he hit the back of my throat and pulling out again. “More,” I whispered.
He did it again, and this time I leaned into it tried to take him deeper. “Oh, fuck,” he said, running his other hand over my jaw and throat. “That feels fucking amazing.”
I bobbed my head, alternating hard sucks with sweeps and strokes of my tongue, tilting my head this way and that. Since I couldn’t use my hands, the sucking slurping sound effects got pretty loud, and I might have been self-conscious about it, but Charlie seemed to enjoy them. “God, I love the way that sounds. I wish I could fucking see you, but there’s no way I’m taking my dick out of your sweet little mouth right now to turn on a light. You’re fucking incredible.”
I moaned softly, and he put both hands in my hair, thrusting gently between my lips.
Confession: I actually said a little prayer here, something along the lines of Dear God, I hope you’re not watching this but I’d really, really be grateful if I could get through this without gagging or choking, and also it would be great if this was the best blowjob he ever gets in his entire life. OK thanks, go away now.
“Oh fuck. Yeah. Yeah, like that.” He curled his fingers into my tumbling up-do, pulling my hair as he held my head steady for his driving cock. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my throat and take him deeper, all the while keeping my lips and tongue wrapped tight and wet and hot around him. I was totally prepared for him to come in my mouth, so it shocked me when he yanked me to my feet and dragged me over to the foot of the bed. He pushed my upper body forward and rucked my dress up to my hips. As he fumbled with a condom, I pressed my cheek to the spread and gasped for air. A second later, he spoke low in my ear. “Open your legs, Homecoming Queen.”
He didn’t even bother removing my underwear, just moved the lace out of the way and shoved his cock inside me. I cried out at the first hard thrust, picking my head up. Charlie grabbed me by the hair again and held it tight, while the other hand reached between my legs and rubbed my clit hard and fast. I struggled to get my arms free, even though I knew I couldn’t, not because I wanted him to stop but because I wanted to press up on the bed, push back against him, take him deeper, even though he was already so deep it hurt.
I came first, his hand and cock working me into a frenzy, and he came a minute later, groaning louder than I’d ever heard him before and pulling my hair so hard I thought he might end up with a handful of it.
“Jesus.” He released my head and we gently tumbled forward onto our left sides on the bed, spooned and sweaty, my bound arms trapped between us.
“Jesus,” I echoed. I closed my eyes, opened and closed my overworked jaw a couple times. Then I looked down at my body. “We still have our clothes on. Like, every item. Right down to our shoes.”
Charlie’s laugh rumbled through his chest and mine. “Sorry. I only thought about getting your belt off. Speaking of which.” He worked the knot apart and freed my arms, which ached pleasantly when I brought them in front of me, shifting my position on the bed. But he stayed close, rubbing my right shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “My only regret is that I didn’t get to take that suit off one piece at a time. It looks so good on you.”
He kissed the back of my neck. “Next time.”
“Next time?” My heart skipped a beat. “When’s that?”
“I don’t know. What are you doing later?”
I giggled. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
“Fuck work.”
“Remind me to take you to the ballet more often.”
He kissed my shoulder and braced himself up on one elbow. “It wasn’t the ballet.”
I rolled onto my back and looked up at him. My eyes had adjusted so that I could make out his features in the dark. “What was it?”
“You know what?” He shook his head slightly. “It’s no one specific thing. You just do something to me.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s the whole idea of you—this perfect, pretty little thing who was always such a good girl—”
I put a finger over his lips. “Hey. I’m still a good girl.”
He smiled, and I took it away. “You are. Mostly. But I like that you’re different with me sometimes.”
“You know what? I like it too.” I bit my lip and went on. “I’ve never been this way with anyone else before. And God knows no one has ever done the things to me that you do.”
“Good.” He paused. “You make me want to be more open, too.”
“What do you mean? More open to what?”
“Just…more open. About myself. About anything.”
I dropped my jaw in mock outrage. “Charlie Dwyer! You’re not saying you want to date me are you?”
He smiled. “Of course not.”
“Good. In t
hat case, would you like to be my non-date for Coco’s wedding on Saturday?”
His brow furrowed. “This Saturday? Like, in two days?”
“Yeah, sorry. I know it’s late notice.”
“What, your first choice backed out on you?”
“No, silly.” I slapped his chest. “I wasn’t going to bring a date, but we always have fun together, so I was thinking…”
“It would be another chance to get me out of this suit?”
I smiled sweetly. “Exactly.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t.”
My smile faded, and disappointment ached in my stomach. “Oh. OK, no big deal.”
“I mean it, Erin. I really wish I could. I just…have plans I don’t think I can get out of.”
Oh my God, he’s got another date. Jesus. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” I sat up, taking the ribbon from where it lay on the spread and circling my waist with it. Charlie sat up and took the two ends, retying it where it was. “Thanks.”
When it was tied, he dropped his hands in his lap. An awkward silence fell upon us, during which I berated myself repeatedly for asking him about the wedding. “Are you a bridesmaid?” he asked, probably just to fill the void.
“Yes. So it’s probably better you can’t come. I’ll be busy the whole night, and you wouldn’t know anyone.”
“Where is the wedding?”
“They’re getting married at Holy Family, which is downtown, and the reception is at their house. They have a beautiful old home in Indian Village.”
“Nice.”
More awkward silence.
“Well, I have to teach class to three-year-olds in the morning, so I better get back. Get my car.” Hurt but trying not to show it, I stood and walked to the mirror over the dresser and removed the rest of the pins in my hair.
“You don’t want to stay?”
Surprised, I caught his eyes in the mirror. “Stay the night here?”
“Well, yeah.”
“No. I don’t think so.” I twisted my hair back up and repinned it with fumbling fingers, conscious of the way Charlie watched me.
Then he stood, fastened his pants, and slowly walked over to stand behind me. I kept my hands busy in my hair, redoing perfectly placed pins just to have something to do with them. What happened next was the second surprise of the evening.
Exhaling, Charlie put his hands on my hips and dropped his forehead to the back of my shoulder.
I felt myself sinking.
“Charlie,” I said softly. “You’re confusing me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It isn’t fair.”
My throat closed up unexpectedly. Careful. “We should go.”
“OK.”
I dropped my arms and tried to move, but he held me in place. “Charlie,” I said, sternly this time.
“I wish things were different, Erin.”
“What do you mean?”
Silence. “Nothing. Never mind.” He removed his hands, and I moved away immediately, scooping up my purse and coat from the floor.
“Ready?” I asked, already opening the door
“Yes.”
We said nothing on the elevator ride down, as we waited for the valet to bring a car they’d just parked an hour ago (Jesus, what they must have been thinking), or on the ride to my car. My blood simmered with anger—at myself, at Charlie, at the situation.
At the entrance to the lot where I’d parked, Charlie told the attendant he was just dropping me off. The guy waved us in, and I directed Charlie to my car. He pulled up behind it and put his car in park. “You must think I’m crazy,” he said quietly.
I shrugged.
“I don’t blame you. The truth is, Erin, I wish I could be what you wanted.”
“How do you know you can’t?” I blurted without thinking.
“I can’t.” He shook his head. “Believe me.”
Get out of the car, before you say something stupid. Better yet, fix this mess. Clean it up.
“Charlie, the wedding thing is not that big a deal,” I said with false brightness. “Really.”
“Are you sure? Because if it’s important to you—”
“It isn’t. Don’t change your plans.”
He rubbed his jaw. “What time is the ceremony?”
“Five. But I mean it. Don’t change your plans.” I tried a smile. “In fact, I’ll be mad if you show up.”
He smiled too. “Thanks for taking me to the ballet.”
“You’re welcome. See you.”
I got out of his car and into mine, and he waited until I started it to pull away. I waited until he turned to go in the opposite direction to let my eyes fill with tears.
Then I cried the whole way home, for no good reason at all.
Coco’s wedding day dawned cold but sunny. The three of us met at the salon at eleven in the morning to have our hair and makeup done, giggling over glasses of champagne—sparkling juice for Mia—and taking a million photos. We all wore our hair up, and since it was Coco’s wedding, Mia and I each traded our usual softer colors for Coco’s signature bright red lips.
When we were done, I stopped at my house to grab a quick lunch and pick up my dress, shoes, and the Bridesmaid Survival Kit Mia had made for me. It contained hand lotion, antibacterial gel, hairspray, hairpins, tissues, breath mints, Motrin, a little bottle of whiskey, and a condom.
I won’t be needing that, I thought grumpily. But I left it in the kit and tossed the entire thing in my overnight bag. The girls were all getting dressed at Coco’s parents’ house, which wasn’t too far from where I lived, and then the limo was picking us up from there to go to the church. As I drove over, I wondered again what Charlie’s plans were for tonight that he couldn’t change. I hadn’t heard from him since Thursday night, but I hadn’t cried again either. I did spend way too much time thinking about that kiss at Cliff Bell’s, though.
Confession: I also replayed the scene in the hotel room a million times in my head. (Damn, I wish I had that on video.)
And then the conversation afterward…it almost seemed like he wanted more from me than friendship, but something was holding him back. It could have been any number of things—his fear of screwing it up, a fear of hurting me, his gut feeling that he was wrong for me, or something else entirely. I mean, I really didn’t know him all that well.
And as for my own feelings, I was totally confused. We had great physical chemistry, and I had fun when we were together, but no way did I want Charlie Dwyer to be the one that finally got to me, nor would I feed that big fat ego by being just one more girl who got emotionally attached after having sex with him. In fact, the more I thought about it, the gladder I felt he was unable to be at the wedding tonight.
I didn’t love him.
But I could.
That was the problem.
#
The church glimmered with candlelight. From the back of the church, Mia and I watched as Nick’s grandmother and parents were seated by ushers, followed by Coco’s grandmother and mother. When Nick and his brothers entered the sanctuary from a side door and took their places at the altar, Mia grabbed my arm. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s happening.”
Fighting tears, I nodded, and turned to look at Coco. She was more beautiful than I’d ever seen her, her thick dark hair piled on her head, her skin radiant, her eyes shining. “You ready?” I said softly.
She inhaled and exhaled. “I think so. Is he up there?”
I nodded, glancing back to the altar. “He is. And he looks gorgeous and happy and excited. Grinning ear to ear.”
She smiled too. “Good.” She looked at her father, a tall, heavy-set man with black hair graying at the temples. “Ready, Dad?”
He nodded, and offered his elbow. “Ready.”
“OK,” the wedding coordinator said as the string quartet at the front of the church began the Bach piece Coco had chosen for the processional. “First bridesmaid.”
That was me. I looked at Mia, then Coco, and sm
iled. “See you up there.”
Coco had chosen beautiful bridesmaid dresses—emerald green bias-cut satin with a draped scoop neck and low back with crisscrossed straps. It was long, and felt lovely swishing against my legs as I walked up the aisle. Mia followed me a minute later, and then Nick’s little niece and nephew charmed the crowd as flower girl and ring bearer.
Finally it was Coco’s moment. My throat squeezed as she glided up the aisle in her ivory wedding dress, also bias-cut satin. The neckline draped just like ours did, but instead of an open back, hers was covered with a sheer layer of tulle covered with beads and crystals in an art deco motif. Just like I’d done at Mia’s wedding, I looked back and forth between bride and groom, fighting tears just like they were. It was so obvious how crazy they were for one another.
Mia reached for my hand, and the two of us clung to each other as Coco’s father kissed her cheek and gave her away to Nick. We only let go twice, once when I had to go up and do a reading, and the second time for communion, which I took but felt guilty about. (Although isn’t guilt half the point of Catholicism?)
Several times throughout the mass, I looked over at Mia and saw her smiling at Lucas, and he back at her.
I was genuinely happy for both my best friends. They’d found exactly what they were looking for, when they least expected it. Yes sir, I was genuinely happy for them, and not a bit jealous. Nope, nope, nope, not one bit. Not even a teensy little bit. Not even—
Oh my God.
I blinked several times at the guy in the black coat coming in the back of the church and sneaking up a side aisle to an open pew. It looked like Charlie, but it couldn’t be. Could it?
Mia elbowed me. “Is that who I think it is?” she whispered in my ear.
I gaped as the guy took off the heavy black coat to reveal a gray suit and white shirt, although the tie was deep red this time.
It was totally Charlie. My girly parts knew it even before my brain did, because they tingled and tightened up like they had some sort of Charlie radar. My nipples peaked, and I brought my bouquet up a little to cover them. Dammit, why hadn’t I had cups sewn in like Mia had?
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