by Meghan March
“Even better.”
She reached down to the skirt of her dress and began pulling it upward. I was riveted, waiting for all that gorgeous skin to be uncovered, when she paused.
“What? What’s wrong?” I looked around, wondering if she’d spotted someone. But that wasn’t the cause of her hesitation.
“Why do I feel like I’m always stripping my clothes off in front of you?”
I bit my lip to hold back a grin. “I don’t know, but you will never hear me complain about you getting naked for me.”
“You didn’t seem to have a hard time walking away from me that night … in the pool. I distinctly recall being very, very naked.”
I cupped her chin, pulling her face down to mine. “What you don’t seem to get, is that even then, I was playing the long game. I knew you were something special, and I wasn’t going to take the chance that I’d only get a taste. I knew that once I did, I’d be addicted. That I’d have to have more. I needed you to be as off balance as I was.” I kissed the corner of her mouth. “And it worked.”
She shoved away from me. “You’re such a smug bastard.” She drew her dress up over her head and let it flutter to the blanket beside us. “Why don’t you put that tongue to good use?”
My heart hammered as I took her in. Again, I wished for more light, because I wanted to see her, memorize her. She was my addiction. I just hoped she wouldn’t be lethal. Regardless, I was in too deep to pull back.
She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to my chest. She scooted toward my knees and undid my belt buckle and the button and zipper of my slacks. When she shifted, I expected her to pull them off so I’d be as naked as she was, but she only tugged off her panties and resettled herself on top of me. She slipped her hand into my boxer briefs and palmed my dick before pulling it free.
“Are you clean? Because I got tested. I’m good. And I’m protected.”
I skimmed my hands from her shoulders down her arms. “I’m clean. But are you sure? We don’t have to—”
She didn’t wait for my response; she was already sliding the hot, wet heat of her pussy along my length and then lifting up and angling the head toward her entrance. My words died in my throat as she sank down on me, arching her back and thrusting her breasts outward. With nothing between us, the searing heat and tight clasp of her body sent spikes of sensation straight to my balls.
“Jesus. Charlie—”
“I know.” Her words were a breathy moan as she started to ride me. I cupped her ass in both hands, helping her to set a pace that was sure to demolish us both before we were ready. The clouds that had obscured the moon finally drifted away and in the silver light, I watched her take me with pure, unapologetic abandon. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. Knowing that I wouldn’t last nearly long enough to call myself a man, I trailed my hand around her waist and thumbed her clit. She moaned and pressed into me, seeking the pressure I offered. She cupped her breasts, tugging at her nipple rings as she flexed her hips and increased her frenetic pace. I attempted to distract myself by promising that one of these days, I’d have her on top of me and force her to go slow and savor the moment. It was a failure as a distraction. It just ramped me up more. Sparks zinged down my spine as my orgasm barreled down on me. Charlie threw her head back and moaned as her body clamped down on me over and over. “Oh shit—I can’t—I’m gonna—” Her words were harsh whispers lost in the night.
She slowed, unable to keep up her own rhythm as the climax gripped her. I clutched her hip with one hand and wrapped my other arm around her back. I pulled her down to me. Engulfed in Charlie, I finally let go.
Twenty-Six
Charlie
I laid atop Simon for what felt like hours, but what was in reality probably only minutes. I never wanted to move again. Clouds had covered the moon, and I focused on matching my breathing to Simon’s.
A spotlight cutting through the darkness interrupted our afterglow.
“Fuck,” Simon whispered, throwing a corner of the blanket over me.
“Time to go?” I asked.
“Unfortunately.”
The unfortunate thing was the fact that I had to pull myself away from Simon’s fabulous, orgasm factory of a cock. Remembering that we’d gone bare, I felt around for a napkin to clean up the mess. The bouncing spotlight was moving closer, so I hurried into my dress and grabbed my bra and panties. Simon tossed the remains of our picnic into the cooler and bundled up the blanket. I snagged my shoes, opting to leave them off.
“Let’s go.” He gripped my hand and started to lead me toward the ramp. He stopped abruptly. “Shit. I don’t want you walking on this barefoot.” He dropped the blanket and the cooler on the deck of the barge and swept me up into his arms. I clung to his neck as he carried me down the ramp and to the car. He’d just shut my door when the security guard reached us. I could hear muffled words, but couldn’t make them out. I really hoped Simon was using that silver tongue to talk our way out of this. A cold sweat prickled over my body at the thought of possibly getting arrested. My fake ID wouldn’t hold up long under heavy scrutiny. I squeezed my eyes shut. I’m not ready for this to end. I’m not ready to let him go. I took a few deep breaths to calm my hammering heart as another thought intruded. Will I ever be ready to let him go? It was a stupid question, and I knew the answer before I’d finished thinking it. But it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have a choice.
The light turned and headed away from the SUV as Simon opened the driver’s side door.
“Sorry about that, babe. It was security. They changed shifts, and my guy forgot to mention it to his replacement.” He must have noticed my pale face or my fingers clenching the fabric of my skirt, because his forehead crinkled with lines of concern.
“You okay?”
I nodded, swallowing back my momentary panic. Pasting a smile on my face, I tried to think of something casual to say. I ended up going with, “And here I thought you were finally breaking the rules.”
The lines of concern didn’t leave his face, leading me to believe that my attempt at masking my freak out had failed. He didn’t comment, though, and for that I was thankful. “I’m going to grab the rest of our stuff.” Simon flicked on a flashlight I hadn’t noticed. Gesturing with it, he said, “Got it from the security guard. Apparently he didn’t want to be fishing me out of the river tonight. Be right back.”
Simon loaded the blanket and cooler into the back of the SUV, and we drove out what I assumed was the same way we’d entered. Silence stretched between us. I had no idea what he was thinking; I was too busy trying not to think at all.
He reached over to pull my hand away from where it was tangled in the folds of my skirt. “You want to come home with me?”
I studied him in the glow of the streetlights. One hand casually on the wheel, the other holding mine, eyes directed out the windshield as he changed lanes. Of course I wanted to go home with him. But I couldn’t.
“I want to, but I can’t.”
He glanced at me. “Why not?”
“Huck. Harriet helped me out last night and tonight, not to mention letting him out every day while I’m at work. I don’t want to take advantage of her. And I also don’t want Huck to get lonely. He’s already pretty depressed being in his crate most of the time. Although, starting tomorrow, he’s allowed to be out for a little bit longer on a short leash.” I smiled at the thought of Huck’s marked improvement over the last few days.
“Then your place it is.”
I raised an eyebrow at his words. “Did I invite you?”
“You were getting around to it.”
It was strange waking up next to Simon for the second morning in a row. And it scared the hell out of me how much I liked it. In my full-size bed, we had no choice but to cuddle. And I was not a cuddler by nature, or at least I hadn’t been before Simon. I tried not to wonder what that said about me and the other guys I’d been with before. Regardless, I didn’t have time to enjoy th
e heat of his body surrounding me, because in exchange for my Saturday off from the Dirty Dog, I’d agreed to go in and do inventory at nine o’clock today.
I tried to extract myself from Simon’s hold, but his arm tightened around my stomach.
“Sleeping, babe. Try it.” His voice was grumbly and rough.
I wiggled to get free, but stilled when I felt his morning wood press against the crack of my ass. “I have to go to work. And after that I have to go to my other work.”
Simon growled. “You work too much.”
“Says the guy who left me naked in bed yesterday to go to work on a Saturday.”
He sighed and released me. “Fine. When do you have to be there?”
I rolled off the bed. “In twenty minutes.”
His eyes popped open, and he looked at the clock. “Shit. You want me to go let Huck out while you get ready?”
My heart warmed at his question. I was leaving him hard up in my bed, and he was offering to help take care of my dog. “That would be awesome.” I thought for a moment about warning him that Harriet didn’t always wear a robe in the mornings, but figured since we’d heard the sounds of Madame Butterfly coming from her studio until shortly after two o’clock, she’d probably sleep until noon.
Simon pulled on his slacks and shirt from the night before and left my apartment as I rushed to get ready for work. I threw on my uniform of choice: black skinny jeans, a hot pink bra, and a white wife beater. My hair went up into a messy bun, and I put on some eyeliner, mascara, and lip-gloss, and called it good. I slipped into my Chucks and was heading down the spiral staircase when Simon was leading Huck back into the house. A few words and a snuggle with my pup to get him settled, and I was about to leave Harriet’s guestroom when Simon grabbed something off the bed.
He held up Breaking the Code with Cryptography, and I froze. “Harriet breaking codes lately?”
Oh. Shit.
I thought I’d grabbed all of my library books yesterday, but apparently not.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I snatched it out of his hand before he could flip it open and see the library bar code.
I forced a laugh. “Who knows with Harriet? I’ll stick it back in the bookshelf. Otherwise, she’ll probably never find it.”
My heart pounded and my hands went clammy as I left the room and shoved the book between a Georgia O’Keefe biography and the Kama Sutra.
I jumped when Simon laughed from behind me. “She’s got quite the eclectic mix.”
Trying to pull my shit together, I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans, forced a casual shrug, and turned for the door. “I’ve really gotta get going.”
He followed me out, and I had the feeling I’d just failed some sort of cosmic test. It was an eerily perfect opening to confess all, but every fiber of my being screamed not yet.
I regained my composure as we walked toward the Dirty Dog. Simon insisted on accompanying me even though his car was parked in the opposite direction. He even directed me into a little café for coffee and quiche because he didn’t like the idea of me skipping meals.
Accepting my coffee from the barista, I finally felt like I was back on even keel. I looked down at my curves and replied, “I could skip a few and be just fine.”
His response: “Not without endangering some of my favorite parts.”
We walked the rest of the way in companionable silence, his fingers laced through mine. It was like we were a regular couple, living a regular life. Except we weren’t. And the close call this morning highlighted once more that we probably never would be.
Simon waved to Yve as I ducked inside the store.
“I don’t know what you did to that man, but honey, he is smitten,” Yve said as she waved back.
“Yeah, well … I didn’t exactly plan this.”
“But it’s good, right?”
I settled on the stool behind the register and pulled my quiche from the bag. Might as well eat while it was still hot.
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and there’s no way it could possibly work out, but for now, it’s really good.”
Yve leaned a hip against a display rack and watched me eat. “I know we haven’t talked about what either of us is running from, but I don’t think whatever that is should stop you from trying to make something real with him.”
My fork halted mid-air at her words and quavered. The bite of quiche landed on the countertop. One thing I had always been able to count on with Yve was no questions. I’d always figured she didn’t ask because she didn’t want any in return. But she’d just broken that unspoken pact. I thought for a moment before responding.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Charlie, I’m the queen of ‘not that simple,’ but even I know you can’t let your past dictate your future. That’s no life.”
She didn’t understand the magnitude of the difference between our situations—because I couldn’t tell her. Humorlessly, I said, “If I was just running from a bad relationship, I’d agree with you. But this is a whole different level of fucked up.”
Yve narrowed her eyes. “Letting a man beat on you for two years because you think you deserve it is a pretty high level of fucked up, I think.”
I lost my grip on the plastic fork, and it clattered on the counter. It was what I had suspected, but my stomach still twisted to hear her say it out loud. “Yve—that’s … I … I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. But I didn’t let that man run me out of my own town. Complicated or simple, some things are worth standin’ and fightin’ for.”
I stared down at the mirrored surface of the counter and considered her words. “What if I’m juggling too many lies to make it out of this in one piece?”
“Does he love you?”
I thought about it for a beat. “I think so.”
“Do you love him?”
This time I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then there’s always hope.”
Even after a year, I hadn’t yet figured out why Con kept the tattoo parlor open until ten on Sunday nights. It was almost nine o’clock, and we were dead slow. Which was dangerous. Delilah had gone home after her last appointment of the day, so only Con and I remained.
“Want to add to your sleeve?” Con asked.
That was why it was dangerous for me to be here when it was slow. I started to get the itch.
I couldn’t say no. Especially when I already knew what I wanted next. Fuck it. “I was thinking my shoulder blade.” I described my idea.
Con grinned. Of course, I assumed the grin was because these tattoo sessions usually ended with him getting laid. That part was not happening. I was pretty sure he knew it, but I needed to be sure we were both on the same page. “I’m not fucking you after.”
His grin faded. “I know, Lee. I still don’t like him.”
“Why not?”
“Long story. I suppose I need to start getting over it if he’s going to keep coming around.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me?”
“That’s it.” His smile returned. “Are you at least going to take your shirt off so I can get to your whole shoulder?”
I pulled my tank over my head in response as he readjusted the chair and readied his station.
“Bra, too?” He reached out and snapped the strap against my shoulder.
I gave him the evil eye. “Work around it.” He slid the strap down, gloved up, and got to work. As soon as I heard the familiar buzz, I relaxed into the seat.
Twenty-Seven
Simon
Number one on the list of things I didn’t want to see when I walked into Voodoo to pick Charlie up from work: her, shirtless, with the guy she used to fuck.
I’ve never been the jealous type before, but something about Charlie fueled my most basic instincts. If Con hadn’t been holding a tattoo gun, I might’ve decked him. I started boxing at the Naval Academy, and still made sure I hit a bag or got a
workout in at least five days a week. Con might have a couple inches on me, but I could take him. I was pretty sure he’d gone Army, so we might spill some blood before I finished him. I fought to bury my emotions when he lifted the tattoo gun away from her skin and smirked as I crossed the room.
I kept my tone light. “Charlie, sweetheart, why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” The answer was obvious, and I was probably being a dick by asking, but I couldn’t hold it in.
Charlie twisted to smile at me and then looked over her shoulder at the burst of color that hadn’t been there when I’d left her at the Dirty Dog this morning. She looked as relaxed as I’d ever seen her outside of bed.
“Do you like it?” I stepped into the small room and checked out her new tat: vivid fireworks exploding across the creamy skin of her shoulder blade. Blue, red, green, and golden yellow, artfully shaded and incredibly detailed. This time I was the one smiling. She’d marked herself permanently with a memory we’d made together. I leaned down, ignoring Con, and kissed her for all I was worth. I heard his stool roll away but wasn’t sure if he’d left the room. Regardless, I wasn’t stopping the kiss until I was damn well good and ready.
When I finally pulled away, I kissed the top of her other shoulder. “I love it.” Although I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to Charlie—I could never guess what was going on in her head—I was going to take it as a sign that she was committing to this. To us. “Can you get the night of the Fourth of July off? It’s a Saturday.”
She glanced toward Con where he stood leaning against the doorway. “You’ve had a lot of Saturday nights off lately,” he replied.
I was ready to argue, but he continued, “But I’m always telling you that you work too damn much anyway. So go for it.” Con turned to me with a mocking stare. “What’s the occasion? Or don’t I want to know?”
Hell, I’d hoped to warm Charlie up to the idea gradually, because I didn’t want her to say no. I needed her next to me. “Just some festivities.”
