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Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

Page 137

by Lex Martin


  “You want something to drink?” Maggie asks. “Charlie’s finishing up some stuff in the back.”

  I glance down to where my beer was when I left and then over to the two empty bottles in front of Diane. “A glass of white zinfandel pretty please.”

  She pours the wine and sets the glass down in front of me, and all the while it’s quiet. My eyes keep flickering back up to the doors. I feel like I need to get these words out now and go tell him, but I can’t force myself to interrupt him.

  “Wanna go somewhere else?” Diane asks.

  Already? We literally just got here. I take her in before answering. She’s drunk, or well on her way there. I can tell by her almost-slurred speech, her rumpled clothes.

  “No,” I say, firming my resolve to talk to Charlie. “I’m going to hang out here for a while longer.” I’m careful as I tell her, “If you want to go though, that’s fine.”

  “Whatever,” Diane says. I knew she’d take it offensively, but I don’t mean it like that. She’s just simply had too much to drink.

  “You want me to call a cab for you?” I offer.

  “I’ll get an Uber,” she rolls her eyes and snatches her clutch before pushing off of the stool.

  “You need help?” I ask her, but she makes a face and turns away from me.

  “Hey, Diane.” God, I feel horrible. I turn in my seat, but she yells out, “I’m fine,” and keeps moving.

  I try to shake off the feeling that I should go help Diane. I really don’t want to. She’s a grown woman… and kind of a bitch. The last thought makes me relax some as I sip my wine.

  My anxiety comes back every time I eye the double doors. I keep my butt planted right where I am and wait for him.

  It’s now or never. I guess I’m going with option 1 after all.

  Time moves slowly as it ticks by. Maggie’s in and out and so is the other bartender, I forget his name. Customers start to dwindle and that sick feeling grows in my stomach. I check my phone here and there. Charlie knows I’m here. The feeling that he’s ignoring me is growing stronger. I shake out the tension and sip my wine. It’s practically room temperature now, but I don’t care. I had too many glasses before I came here anyway.

  The bar grows quieter and quieter and time keeps going until my phone tells me it’s closing time. It’s just me and Maggie, although she’s in the back with Charlie now. I look around the empty bar and get the urge to go back there, but I don’t. He knows I’m here.

  After a while, Charlie and Maggie both come back out front. Charlie sees me, and a little bit of a frown crosses his face.

  “Hey, I got this,” he tells Maggie. Although he’s speaking to her, his eyes never leave mine. The way he says it makes my stomach turn.

  Maggie slides me a questioning look. “Sure thing, boss.”

  A few seconds later, the back door bangs shut as she heads out.

  Charlie and I are alone.

  “I’m supposed to be closing…” he says, walking around the bar. He sits on the barstool next to mine.

  “I know. I just… I wanted to see you. Maybe I can help you close?”

  He looks at me for a long second, then holds out his hand.

  “Come here,” he says, pulling me closer to him. I feel the air change between us, and his expression shows something I’ve never seen before.

  “You okay?” I ask him, suddenly feeling like he’s breaking up with me. Which is ridiculous, because there’s nothing to break up. Stupid girl. I knew this would happen. I just don’t want it to happen right now. I take it all back. I won’t pressure him for anything. Just don’t leave me Charlie.

  “You like being with me?” he asks me, and I’m quick to nod my head.

  “I really do, and-” my voice is tight as I prepare for the worst.

  Before I can finish, he kisses me fiercely, spearing his hands in my long hair. His hands are everywhere, running down to touch my breasts, skimming around to touch my ass.

  He breaks the kiss, breathing heavy. Oh thank God.

  A smile full of relief is pressed against his lips as I kiss him again and again feeling as though each time brings me closer to telling him what I need. I pull his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. He lets me. His eyes are clouded by something else and that tension is still present between us. I don’t stop though. I undo his belt, kissing down his body as I go, trying to show him how much I love being with him.

  He inhales sharply, pulling at me not to go down on him.

  I’m not about to let him stop me though, so I push against him with my body, and turn him so he’s the one facing the bar.

  Finally, he relents, helping me and his cock stands proud. Slipping my hand around it, I stroke him, wanting him to know I can give pleasure too. Just like he gave me in that coat closet.

  “Grace,” he warns, staring at me with a look like this isn’t a good idea, but I don’t stop.

  When I run my tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip, he makes a sound of pent-up longing. I take him in my mouth, inch by inch, but it isn’t enough.

  He growls and pushes my head down a little, always needing to be the one in control.

  Using my tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock, I do everything I can to give him the same kind of pleasure he gave me. Alternating between doing that and taking him deep, it's only minutes before he pulls me away.

  At my protest, he merely shakes his head. “There’s time for that later. I promise.”

  Then he pulls me to my feet, switching our positions again. He makes quick work of my dress, pulling it up over my head. I’m not wearing a bra with this dress, so my bare breasts are exposed. I bite my lip as he palms them; heat spreads through my body.

  “So beautiful,” he marvels. He bends down and takes one nipple in his mouth. He sucks on it, making my back arch. When he releases it in favor of the other, I call out his name.

  “Please, Charlie,” I moan.

  “Please what?” he asks in a low voice with a hint of desperation. Like he needs me to tell him. Like his world depends on it.

  “Please…” Be with me. Be with me for more than just this. My heart is desperate for me to say the words, but nothing comes out.

  The brush of his fingers against my core is like a live wire. He bends to kiss my breast again, his fingers coaxing, opening me to his view.

  I moan as he kisses his way down to my pussy. He kneels, discovering me with a series of slow licks that send me sky high. He shifts himself, pressing one hand on the top of my sex, while the other explores.

  Charlie finds my clit with his tongue, running lazy circles around it, driving me wild. One finger dips inside my core.

  “Yes,” I whisper, urging him on.

  That same finger that dipped into my center withdraws, then brushes backward.

  Is he—?

  He chooses that moment to focus on my clit, while sliding his finger around and around the tight hole. I am crazed with the need to get off, and when he focuses in on my clit again, and presses his finger against my rear entrance…

  His finger slips in with little resistance. I feel my face heat as I realize that I don’t hate it… in fact, it feels… good. Hot and full, but it feels so good. Oh my God. It takes everything not to move against his motions.

  He slows his pace, giving me a second to get used to the feeling of his finger in my ass, grinding in rhythm. I'm ashamed to find how much I like it. I moan every time he moves his finger.

  It’s so taboo, so wrong…

  He sucks on my clit, although I can’t forget about where his finger is. He picks up the pace, his tongue moves faster, massaging and taking me higher. He slowly brings a second finger to join the first.

  I explode, riding high on a wave of sensation that won’t stop. I call his name as I find a sudden release, a blessing or a curse, I don’t know.

  Before I even finish, Charlie stands up and turns me around. My naked breasts touch the bar and I spread my legs for him. He runs his hand dow
n my bare back, and squeezes one of my ass cheeks.

  “You really want me?” he asks me.

  “Yes,” I groan. “Are you going to…” I want to ask him if he’s going to try to put himself…

  “Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” Before I can answer, the words are knocked out of me.

  He enters me in one brutal stroke, making us both cry out. He fills me completely, possesses me utterly, steals my very breath.

  He does it again, and again. Over and over, he strokes into me with every bit of his strength. My body knows what's coming. I’m shaking like a leaf.

  Every nerve ending cries out for fulfillment. I move with him, thrust with him until I can’t anymore. Until I see the edge of the precipice, looking up from down below.

  He doesn’t stop fucking me, taking me even higher. Prolonging the pleasure.

  He stiffens and grabs my hips hard, bruising my flesh as he finds his own release.

  When he’s finished, we stand, both catching our breath and coming back down to earth for a long moment, struggling to breathe. I turn my head back, and he nuzzles my neck, but he won’t look me in the eyes. He finally withdraws from my body and I wince, already aching between my legs.

  “Wait here,” he says, pulling up his pants.

  I turn around, picking my dress up from the floor. He returns as I'm putting the dress on. He has a clean, wet rag.

  “Here,” he says, reaching low to wipe the stickiness from between my legs. I balance myself by gripping onto his shoulder as I feel the warm rag wipe me clean.

  “Thanks,” I say awkwardly. The tension is still there. It’s suffocating. As soon as he's done, I finish getting dressed, pulling my panties on and watching Charlie. But he never looks at me the whole time.

  I’m trying to be what he wants but I can feel him already slipping away.

  He tosses the rag aside and catches me by the waist. Finally, his green eyes stare back at me and my heart flips. His mouth kicks up, half a smile on his face. He kisses me, slow and tender.

  When I break away, his smile falters and he lets me go. “I still have to close. It’s going to be awhile. An hour, at least.” He scratches the back of his head, looking away.

  “Oh,” I respond but so many questions linger at the back of my throat. “I think I’ll go. I have to work in the morning.”

  “Right,” he says with a frown. “Right, of course. I’ll just walk you to the door then.”

  “No need,” I assure him. “I think I can make it a whole hundred feet alone.”

  He looks like he’s going to argue with me, but then he swallows it back. “Sure. I’ll see you later, then?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Sure,” I answer him as I slip on my heels, only then remembering I never told him anything I wanted to say. It hurts way too much to not be a breakup.

  “Okay. Text me when you get home, let me know you got there safe.”

  I give him a half smile that I don’t mean, feeling the split between us. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I open my mouth to tell him, but I can’t. He has to work, and I need to get home. If I say anything right now, I know I’m going to cry. I’m going to be that clingy girl he didn’t want. Instead, I let myself out and cry alone in the car on my way home alone.

  Charlie

  Little Evie is upright in Joseph’s lap, staring back at me with wide eyes as I shove peas into my mouth.

  I don’t taste a damn thing. It’s been five days. Five fucking days since that night at the bar.

  I should have ended it that night at the bar or at least told her I knew what she told Diane. I should have told her no, but I just wanted to feel her one last time. Five days and she hasn’t said a word to me. Hasn’t come by. She never wanted a relationship with me.

  I’m so fucking pathetic, wrapped up in a woman who doesn’t want me. Who never wanted me. I remember how she tried to get out of it. I should have let her.

  I’m so fucking stupid.

  My fork clinks on the ceramic plate as I lower my head, feeling like shit.

  “How long is their trip?” Cheryl asks Ma. It’s just Cheryl, Joseph, Ma and Pops while Ali and Michael are on their honeymoon. Without Ali here, it’s quieter than usual. Or maybe I just think it is.

  “A full week,” Ma answers, taking a sip of her Diet Pepsi and shifting in her seat.

  “Oh wow,” Cheryl says, absently kissing the top of Evie’s head, although the little girl still stares back at me. “That’s a long honeymoon.”

  “We can go on another,” Joseph pipes up then shovels another bite in his mouth.

  Cheryl scoffs, leaning back in her seat and yawning before she says, “Like when the kids are in college?”

  Joseph starts to answer, but Ma cuts in, “Kids?” Her eyes flicker to Cheryl’s stomach.

  “Oh don’t get ahead of yourself, Ma.” Cheryl stretches one arm over her head, another yawn taking over as she does.

  “Just checking,” Ma says with a smile. Pops chuckles at the end of the table. He’s been quiet all night but keeps looking at me. He thinks I don’t notice, but I do. They’re all looking at me, and I’m just waiting for the questions to start.

  As if reading my mind, Ma asks, “When are you going to bring Grace to dinner, Charlie?” She picks up a bun from the basket all the while looking at me, waiting on my answer.

  I lean back in my seat, taking in a heavy breath.

  If I call her, I think she’d answer. If I ask her to come by, I think she would.

  She’s busy with the promotion, and I’ve got work, too. I want to give in and just get lost in her touch, but it’s turning into something else for me. I never should’ve asked her to come around after the wedding.

  I’m ashamed to say how much it hurts to end it with her. I don’t want to, but I can’t forget what Diane told me and it just makes sense. I’m not the man she wants her happily ever after with. We both knew that from the beginning.

  I don’t want to believe Diane, but she knew it was fake. She said that word, fake. That had to have come from Grace. There’s no other way Diane could have known it was some stupid bet and we were pretending.

  “She’s real busy,” I say before taking a drink of my water. “She got a promotion.”

  “Oh that’s wonderful,” Ma answers, but her tone is flat and I keep my head down to avoid looking at her.

  “Just where’d you two run off to during the reception?” Joseph asks me, and when I look up I see his cocky smile as he picks off a piece of his chicken and pops it into his mouth.

  “Nowhere,” I answer him as Cheryl shoves her elbows into his side. She gives him a look, and little Evie finally looks away from me and up to her mom. She’s only a few months old, but she’s holding her head up just fine and staring at the world around her with wonder.

  I’m not fucking settling. And not on a woman who doesn’t want me. For the first time since it happened, I regret thinking about knocking Grace up. My heart clenches in my chest, and I take another gulp of my water.

  I don’t know what got into me with her, but I know it needs to end.

  I made a mistake, and not for the first time. But I’m damn sure not going to let history repeat itself.

  “Son, help me with something.” Ma’s request is odd, especially coming in the middle of dinner. Just like her calling me ‘son’ is throwing me off.

  “Of course,” I answer her, setting my napkin to the side and following her to the kitchen. She keeps walking, out to the back door and to the patio.

  “What do you need help with out here?”

  My Ma’s a bit shorter than me and when she takes a seat on the floral tufted cushion, she’s even shorter. Taking my cue, I have a seat on the chair opposite her. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I do my best to appease her and whatever hints she has that I’m off.

  “That’s not true. Mickey told me Grace hasn’t been in. Maggie said she thinks you two got in a fight
.

  What in the ever loving hell. My eyes must speak my thought for me. “Don’t look at me like that,” my mother scolds me. “They’re worried for you,” she stresses and my mom’s voice shakes.

  “She doesn’t want to be with me,” I explain, getting right to the point and looking at my mother and saying those words makes the truth hurt even more.

  “Bull,” my mother bites out, her eyes getting glassy. “I saw the way she looks at you and the way you look at her,” my mom’s hands clasp in her lap, almost like she’s praying. “You tell me what happened and I’ll tell you how to fix it.”

  “I don’t need you getting us back together. I’ll settle down and find a nice girl one day.” My throat gets tight and I can’t finish my thoughts. Mostly about how my mother doesn’t have to worry like she is.

  “Didn’t I love you enough to know what it feels like?” she asks me, a tear escaping and I lean forward, reaching for my mother’s hand. She shakes it away from me and wipes her eyes. “You love her and she loves you and this isn’t okay. I know Suzanne hurt you but you deserve love and I don’t know why you don’t fight for it.”

  “She doesn’t want me,” I emphasize as kindly as I can to my emotional mother.

  “Son, if you think I didn’t pick up on the fact that you were only friends before, you must think I’m fool. That first day I met her, I knew you two lied.”

  “Ma, I-”

  “Hush, boy,” she cuts me off. “I let it go because I could tell she wanted you. She had her eye set on you like I did your father. If you were blind to that, I can forgive it. But I can’t forgive you thinking she doesn’t love you. Not when everyone around you knows she does.”

  She doesn’t get it and it kills me. I hate feeling like this. I hate seeing my mother like this even more.

  “Do you love her?”

  I hesitate only a second before answering, “yes.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answer my mother. “No.”

 

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