The door barely has a chance to lock before Charlene launches herself at me. She forces me back against the wall—which is no easy feat considering I have a good six to eight inches on her and I outweigh her by a hundred pounds. I’m attributing it partly to her catching me off guard.
Her fingernails cut into my shoulders as her mouth connects with mine, and she tries to hoist herself up. I spin so she’s against the wall and lift her by her ass, positioning her so my erection is finally where it’s supposed to be, albeit covered by clothes. I plan to remedy that soon.
She rolls her hips and moans, head hitting the wall as she arches. Her nails bite my scalp, and her teeth sink into my bottom lip. Charlene is a lot of things in the bedroom—uncertain, curious, semi-adventurous, adorably sort-of commanding when she’s decked out in leather—but she’s rarely, if ever, aggressive like she is now, which tells me I’ve either pushed her too far, or something is wrong.
Possibly both.
I also think her prolonged anxious state means she needs to come, badly.
Pinning her against the wall with my hips, I press a palm to her chest and splay my fingers out to frame the pearl necklace.
“Darren, please.” The words draw out on a plea.
This is about so much more than delayed gratification. She’s not just wanting, she’s desperate and sad and panicked, and I need to understand why. But first I need to take care of her, for both our sakes.
I run my free hand down her side and under the waistband of her leggings. “After I make you come, you’re going to tell me why you’re so upset.”
“Whatever you want.”
I slip my fingers into her panties, which are practically soaked through. All day I left her in this state—too many hours and too much uncertainty. It’s my fault she’s out of control, and I’m right there with her.
She jerks as soon as I find her clit. Her legs go lax, along with the rest of her, as if she’s been dosed with Valium. I ease her down the wall, wishing I’d made it to the bed, but aware that stopping now would be an even worse kind of torment. So I push two fingers inside and curl forward, fluttering fast and hard.
Charlene is lost in all the sensations, chasing down bliss. My name is a guttural groan as she comes in waves, and I keep pushing her, dragging it out because I can, and she needs it.
She sags against me, hot breath fanning across my skin, and I kiss her temple. “Do you need me to keep going?”
She makes a noise, but I can’t tell if it’s a yes or a no. I skim her clit, and she sucks in a gasping breath, fingers tightening in my hair again. So I keep circling, light and slow, pulling her to the edge and pushing her over gently. This orgasm is much less violent, but no less intense.
I ease my hand out of her panties, grab her thighs and hoist her up, keeping her wrapped around me as I carry her to the bed. A stream of light from the bathroom cuts across the floor, illuminating the way.
“I won’t do that to you again,” I promise as I lay her out on the bed, kissing along her temple and down her cheek. “I won’t leave you needing that long ever again.”
She’s shaky and clumsy as she tries to unbutton my shirt. I cover her hand. “Let me get it.”
I kneel between her legs and shrug out of the suit jacket, unfasten the first three buttons and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. Charlene’s already managed to get her jersey over her head and her leggings off.
“Leave the rest for me, please.” I unclasp my belt, pop the button on my pants and get my zipper halfway down before Charlene pushes them over my hips, taking my boxers with them.
My erection springs free, and Charlene wraps her soft, warm hand around the length. Her eyes flash up to mine, glassy and desperate as she leans forward and parts those gorgeous lips, engulfing the head.
I groan out a low fuck and close my eyes for a second, because seeing her like this is almost too much.
The head bumps the back of her throat as I shove my fingers into her hair. But I don’t try to control her. I don’t need to. She knows me well enough to anticipate what I want. She pulls back, sucks the head, and then draws me in, over and over, again and again, eyes locked on mine.
I trace her bottom lip. “If you take me deep one more time, I’m going to come down that pretty, sweet throat of yours.” It’s as much a warning as a promise.
As fun as it is to make a mess on her chest, I’d prefer not to do that tonight, mostly because I don’t want to take the time to clean it up before I get into those pretty panties of hers with more than my fingers.
I’m right there, balls tightening, the ache merging with the promise of release. She sucks hard, her hot mouth surrounding every inch of me, and I let go, pulsing as she swallows. I fold forward, groaning her name, struggling not to thrust since I’m already as deep as I can go.
When I’m finished coming, I ease out gently and bend to brush my lips over hers. “I didn’t deserve your mouth tonight.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I want you in me for a long as possible tonight, and this guarantees that.”
I chuckle and kiss her softly. “Well, I’m going to need a few minutes before I can do that, and I have a really great idea about how to pass the time.” Charlene smiles against my lips. I’d like to stay where I am for a while, but I’ve tortured her enough for one day, and there’s little I love more than watching her unravel for me.
I drop a kiss between her breasts and one below her navel. The custom bra and matching panties are perfect on her gorgeous body. “I want to see the back of these,” I murmur.
Charlene slides up the bed and flips onto her stomach, craning to look her over shoulder. Her lip is caught between her teeth. I run my hands down her sides to her hips.
“I don’t know why it took me this long to come up with these, but they’re my new favorites.”
“I think Violet has a pair for every day of the week with Alex’s name stamped on her butt.”
As soon as I get home, I’m going to order them in every color combination, style, and pattern I can. Fuck lace and satin. Cotton boy shorts are where it’s at.
I regret how I handled her this morning, because now I want to take my time, but I’m aware I can’t. I open the clasp on her bra and kiss the space between her shoulder blades, then the dip in her spine before I pull the panties over her hips and bite the swell of her ass, smiling at her gasp. I drag my thumb along the divide, and she jolts and moans. Slipping my fingers between her thighs, I skim the length of her slit, passing her entrance to find the steel piercing her clit. Her hips lift as I circle once.
“On your back baby, I want to spend some time kissing you.”
Charlene is quick to comply, flipping over and tossing her bra on the floor.
I stretch out between her legs, hooking my arms under her thighs and lick up the length of her pussy. Charlene writhes against my mouth when I take her clit ring between my teeth and tug. The first orgasm comes hard and fast, the second only minutes behind the first. And I keep going, pushing her higher so I can watch her spiral down, down, down.
I lose track after orgasm number three. And eventually I can’t and don’t want to wait any longer. It’s not just about getting lost in her, which I admittedly want. But more than that, I need her. I need the closeness. I need to know she’s mine and that no matter what happens at the end of the season, that’s not going to change.
I prowl up her body, position myself at her entrance and ease in.
I drop my forehead against her neck and groan. “Only you make me feel this alive.”
Charlene’s knees press against my ribs, and links her hands behind my neck. “I felt empty all day,” she whispers.
Her words make the hairs on my arms stand on end. Something about her tone tells me this isn’t just about withholding orgasms. It’s more.
I kiss my way up her neck and across her jaw. “And how do you feel now?” I push up on my arms so I can see her face.
“Like you’re unde
r my skin, but I can’t get you deep enough.”
I roll my hips, and she moans quietly. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I want to give her everything she needs. I want to be everything she needs.
I slip my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, cradling her head in my palm as I drop my lips to hers. I can still taste her on my tongue, so when she licks at my mouth and moans, I know it’s because she can taste herself.
I kiss her the same way I move inside her. I’m in no rush for this to end, and somewhere inside my head, I fear what will happen when it does. Things between us are shifting again. And as close as I feel to her in this moment, I worry that outside of it, there will be distance I don’t know how to bridge.
Charlene grabs my biceps, fingernails digging in while she moves with me. I pull back in time to see her eyes flutter open and meet mine as she starts to pulse around me.
Charlene spends a great deal of energy trying to make sex into some kind of event, as if she feels l need to be entertained to enjoy her. But nothing compares to this. There are no distractions, nothing to get in the way as I watch her light up under me. She lifts her hand and drags gentle fingers down my cheek.
I close my eyes for a second, absorbing the sensation before I catch and hold Charlene’s gaze again. The orgasm is painfully intense as it burns through me. White spots blank out of my vision, taking away Charlene’s perfect face for the briefest moment. It feels as if I’m drowning in pleasure so extreme the possibility of never having it again is agony.
I drop my head, nuzzling into her neck, breathing in the salty sweet scent of her skin. My body feels weighed down with satiety. I want this every day. I want to wake up to this, go to sleep to this, come home to this, and I’m not sure why it took this long for me to realize it. My limbs are heavy and uncoordinated as I ease out. I slip an arm under her and roll to the side, taking her with me.
Charlene tucks her head under my chin, a shiver ripping through her. At first I think it’s the aftermath of such a powerful, drawn-out orgasm, or maybe she’s cold. I try to shift away so I can tuck us under the covers, but she mumbles no against my neck and tightens her hold.
“Let me get a warm cloth so I can make you more comfortable,” I murmur against her temple, once again trying to extricate myself.
She clings tighter and shakes her head, shuddering again.
I pull back enough so I can see her face, but she twists her head away, tucking her chin against her shoulder, eyes screwed up tight.
“Are you okay?” I stroke her cheek, hoping to calm her, but her lips twist as if she’s fighting whatever emotions are swimming to the surface, ones she’s clearly trying to hide.
“I’m fine,” she whispers brokenly, still not looking at me.
“You seem the opposite of fine.”
“I need a minute. Please.”
I don’t know what to make of this reaction, or the way she’s clinging to me. This isn’t typical Charlene behavior, and I don’t know how to handle it.
A tiny whimper hums across my throat.
“Did I hurt you?” I don’t think I did. I’m always extraordinarily careful with Charlene.
She shakes her head into my shoulder, which should be a relief, but the fact that she’s breaking down emotionally after sex seems bad. The sound of her pain tears at my heart, her ache my own.
I want to be better at this, at caring for someone. A wave of emotion slams into me, the kind I’ve guarded against my entire life. I shift her body so I can sit up and keep her in my lap. She wraps her legs around my waist, arms locked around my shoulders with her face buried against the crook of my neck.
She feels like she could break apart in my arms, and I’m forced to finally accept the truth I’ve been hiding from: I’m in love with Charlene, and have been for a very long time.
Jesus. I’m so emotionally stunted by my fucked-up family, I couldn’t even recognize love until it punched me in the face.
I rub circles on Charlene’s back with one hand and smooth my free palm over the back of her head. “Breathe, baby,” I murmur in her ear and press my lips to her temple. “Let me make it better.”
She sucks in a high-pitched breath, and I worry I’m making it worse. Eventually she seems to calm, and then her lips find that sensitive space behind my ear. She trails kisses up my neck and along the edge of my jaw.
For a moment I’m confused, until I realize her mouth is meant to be a distraction. It almost works.
I cup her face in my hands and lift, forcing her to look at me. Charlene’s eyes are red rimmed, her cheeks flushed, and her expression is pure panic.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I want you again.” She tries to come back to my mouth, but I hold her still.
“What is this about?” I smooth away her tears.
“That was intense. Today was intense.”
“And that’s the only reason for the tears?” I press. “I need you to talk to me, Charlene.”
“I waited all day for you.” She sighs and lifts her gaze, vulnerability leaking through. “I know the game was stressful for you, and it’s the same for me. You wanted me on edge, and I was. I was worried and anxious. It was a lot.”
I still think she’s leaving things out, purposely or not, so I try to pull them out of her however I can. “What exactly are you worried about?”
“I don’t know. Everything? You? What you’re not telling me.”
I sigh. I’m going to have to give to get here. “My stats are too high, and I’m getting too much attention. I don’t like it, and I don’t want it. But I don’t have a choice, and I won’t tank our team because I dislike the press I’m getting.”
She blinks a few times, maybe stunned that I’m being so forthcoming for once. It’s about fucking time, I suppose. Buying her new clothes and nice things only goes so far. I have to let her into my head if I want her to let me into hers.
“Now can you tell me why you’re so upset, other than the fact that I’m an asshole for having kept you on the edge all day?”
Her fingers go to her pearls. “Now I feel stupid.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re worried about your team, and I’m worried about myself.”
I want to erase the sadness that pulls her mouth down. I want to take the ache away. “Trust me when I tell you it’s not just my team I’m worried about, Charlene. I’m not that selfless.”
“What else are you worried about?”
I shake my head, aware this is yet another diversion tactic. “Not understanding why you’re so upset.”
She runs her fingers through my hair, eyes fixed there, maybe so she doesn’t have to look directly at me. “It feels like I’m losing things that are important to me.”
“How do you mean?”
“Violet’s always been my best friend. And maybe it’s petty and stupid, but she’s going to get closer to Sunny because they’re both pregnant, and Sunny and Lily have always been close, and now Violet and Lily are actual sisters, and I feel like I’m on the outside with no way in. And then there’s this whole expansion draft, and what if you’re traded and I . . .” She sucks in a deep breath, trying to keep herself in check. “I don’t want to lose all the people who mean the most to me.”
I skim the hollow of her eyes, brushing away more tears. As much as I don’t like to see her upset, I’m almost relieved we’re on the same page, at least about not wanting to lose the people we care for. I can’t control what’s happening with Violet or Alex, but I can try to keep hold of what we have.
“Whatever happens with everyone else, I’m in this with you. We can be on the outside together.”
She drags her fingers along the edge of my jaw, eyes sad. “Everything’s changing, and I want it to stay the same. I need this to stay the same.”
My stomach bottoms out. “This?”
“Us. How we are.”
Is it a warning? Was tonight too much for her? The closeness is
something I want more of. And it has to be gradual, something that happens so slowly she won’t even recognize the change is happening at all. So I don’t ask for clarification, because I don’t want an answer I won’t like. Instead I tell her what she needs to hear.
“It’s always going to be me and you, Charlene. Whatever you need, I’ll be that for you.”
CHARLENE
Things seem to stabilize after we return to Chicago. My panic over losing my best friend because she now has a real half-sister wanes as I realize things haven’t changed all that much. I mean sure, Violet and Lily might be a little closer because they literally share DNA, and she and Sunny can gripe about sore boobs, but it hasn’t changed how much time Violet and I spend together. In fact, once we’re home, Violet and I are together more, rather than less. Darren and I spend a lot of time in coupley situations with Vi and Alex, so I don’t feel like my best friend position has been usurped.
Things between Darren and me are good—great even. He hasn’t shifted from a quiet, introverted, sometimes guarded man to the kind of guy who shares all of his feelings and loves being around lots of people. But there are shifts, and not all of them are subtle.
I now have a rack in his walk-in closet filled with brand new business wear, the kind I can’t afford unless I switch careers and become a high paid escort who works every night of the week. The price tags are always missing, but I’ve done my research. I know what a Fendi suit costs—especially if it’s this season and has been custom tailored to fit me.
One side of the bathroom vanity now houses duplicates of the stuff I keep at home.
Darren also purchased a second dresser to match his, which is where all of my lingerie, new leggings, sleep sets, and panties now reside. When he has home games, he requests that I stay with him almost every night. He’s grown particularly fond of returning from a game or practice to find me snuggled up in my reading chair with either a book or account files I’ve brought home with me. Although admittedly, that chair ends up being used for sex almost as much as it is for reading.
Pucked Love Page 17
