by Tara Wyatt
She shook her head, struggling to keep the tiniest bit of distance between them. “No. I don’t,” she lied.
She felt him smile against her skin, and he tipped her back slightly, his mouth scorching a path from her neck and down her collarbone, his beard prickling against the skin of her breast. Oh, Jesus, that felt good. The softness of his mouth surrounded by the rough scrape of his beard set every one of her nerve endings on edge, fear and lust seesawing through her, almost making her dizzy.
His mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue swirling over it before he sucked it gently. “So what does this mean, Charlie?” he asked, his mouth brushing her breast.
“It means that I want to fuck you, Adam. Badly.”
He made that ridiculously hot growling sound again and tugged his own shirt over his head. Charlie fell against him before his shirt even hit the floor, wanting to feel that hard chest against hers. She kissed a path up his neck, savoring his clean, masculine scent and then trailed her hands down his sides, tracing the contours of the ridged muscles there. She smiled as she felt goose bumps rise up on his skin at her touch.
He cupped her ass and lifted her, laying her out on the couch, kneeling above her. His hands shook a little as he undid his belt and popped open the button above his fly. She began to wiggle her yoga pants down over her hips, but then slowed when she remembered. Shit.
“Um…” She trailed off, her fingers still hooked in her pants.
Adam’s gorgeously sculpted chest heaved as he took a breath and shoved a hand through his hair, leaving it adorably disheveled. “You want to slow down?”
She shook her head, her cheeks heating. “No, I just…should warn you.”
His brow creased. “Warn me? About what?”
“It’s been a while for me, and I haven’t, um…landscaped in a while.” She bit her lip as she studied him, waiting for his reaction.
Relief filled his face, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling. Then, he took one of her hands and guided it to his cock, hard and thick beneath his jeans. “Jesus, Charlie. Does it feel like I care?”
She shrugged. “Some guys do.”
“Some guys are assholes.”
God, did she ever know that fact firsthand. The thought was almost sobering enough to make her reconsider what they were about to do, but then he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants and started working them down, and all she could focus on was the here and now and how good he felt. How good he was making her feel.
“How long is a while?”
He peeled her pants off, and she trembled as his fingers skimmed along her hips, the outsides of her thighs, the backs of her knees. “Almost a year. I haven’t…” She swallowed and licked her lips, her pulse racing. “You’re the first. Since the breakup.”
His eyes darkened and rain splashed harder against the windows, matching the rhythmic thrumming of her pulse through her veins. He hooked his thumbs into her panties and pulled them down, the cotton scraping delicately over her sensitized skin. “I don’t know what to say.” He tossed her panties aside. “I’m pretty fucking lucky, I think.”
It was Charlie’s turn not to know what to say, so she stroked him through his jeans and his eyes flickered closed for a second. He rocked his hips against her hand, pressing into her touch. Quickly, he rose from the couch and shucked his jeans and then his boxers, revealing the most gorgeous cock she’d ever seen, long and thick, with the slightest curve to it. She whimpered and rubbed her thighs together, already anticipating how good he’d feel inside her. Adam reached into his jeans pocket and fished out a condom.
She propped herself up on her elbows, one eyebrow arched. “Pretty sure of yourself there, Hennessy,” she said, tipping her head at the condom in his hand.
“Call it wishful thinking,” he said, setting the condom on the coffee table and easing himself down on top of her. They sighed in unison at the sensation of being skin to skin. He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and swept his thumb over her cheekbone. “God, Charlie,” he whispered before capturing her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. His cock rubbed against her thigh and she moaned into his mouth, scraping her nails lightly down his strong back.
He slipped a hand down between their bodies, the room lighting up with a flicker of lightning as he ran a finger along her lips, teasing them apart. His mouth still on hers, he slowly, slowly slipped a finger inside her, his thumb brushing against her clit. She bucked up into his touch, her muscles clenching around his finger, and hot pleasure streaking through her. They’d barely started, and she was already on the brink of orgasm.
“God, you’re so wet,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw as he slowly moved his finger in and out of her, stretching her. His thumb circled her clit with slow, firm strokes, and hot pressure coiled low in her stomach.
“Eleven months, Adam. Eleven long months.”
“And here I thought this—” he slipped a second finger into her and she moaned, louder than she’d intended “—was for me.” His thumb feathered over her clit and he curled his fingers inside her. The pressure that had been building inside her broke free, that sharp need melting into hot, heavy throbs as she came on his hand, moaning out his name, arching up into him.
After several seconds, when she could breathe again, she smiled lazily up at him. “That was for you. Because of you.”
He smiled, a slow, lopsided smile. “You turn the prettiest shade of pink when you come,” he said, his voice husky. “It makes your freckles look like they’re glowing.” His fingers were still inside her, and she clenched around him at his words, fresh arousal washing over her like a wave.
“You like my freckles?”
Thunder rumbled around them, overpowering the sound of the rain pattering against the windows for a moment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought maybe she was supposed to feel embarrassed at how quickly she’d come. But she didn’t feel embarrassed with Adam. She couldn’t, not when he was looking at her with an almost reverential focus.
“Yes. Very much.” He trailed his mouth down her neck and across her collarbone. “I want to kiss every single one.” His beard scratched against her skin, and she arched up into him.
She didn’t want him to be sweet, to make it seem like she could be someone to him. She just wanted to feel, wanted the temporary oblivion of his body inside hers. “Fuck me, Adam.”
His eyes darkened at her words and he slipped his fingers out of her, reaching above her for the condom on the table as his mouth slammed into hers, claiming her with a hot, deep kiss. She hooked her legs around his hips and rocked up into him, and he let out a loud groan when his cock slid against her slick pussy.
“Fuck, Charlie,” he said, rolling his hips and sliding his cock against her again. She jerked up at the sound of something smashing to the ground and shattering, almost crashing her head into Adam’s.
“I broke your lamp trying to grab the condom. Sorry,” he said as he sat up for a second, tearing the packet open and rolling on the condom. He eased himself back down on top of her and lined up the head of his thick cock at her soaking wet entrance.
She met his eyes and reached up and cradled his face, loving the way his short beard bristled against her palms. “Make it up to me.”
“Gladly.” With one arm braced on the arm of the couch above her head, he gripped her hip and slid inside her in one stroke. “Fucking Christ, Charlie,” he breathed, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him deeper. Wanting more. He pushed in another inch and closed his eyes, sweat dotting his hairline.
She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “Adam? You okay?”
He pulled out of her and thrust back in with a wonderfully hard, deep stroke. “I’m a hell of a lot better than okay.” He stroked in and out of her again, and she moaned softly, loving the way he filled her, the way the curve of his cock hit just the right spot inside her. “You feel so damn good, Charlie.”
Her teeth scraped against his earlobe and she clenched around him. �
��So do you. God, you’re in so deep.”
He made that low growling sound again and began to fuck her in earnest, pumping his hips as he thrust in and out of her, and gloriously hot pressure tightened the muscles in her core. The couch bumped against the table, sending the rest of the contents tumbling to the floor, and she didn’t care. All she cared about was Adam’s body inside hers, making her feel so fucking good it almost hurt.
He thrust in harder, kissing her roughly, and her toes curled so hard her foot started to cramp. He broke the kiss and his tongue traced the shell of her ear. “I want to feel you come, Charlie.” The fact that he wanted her pleasure, wanted to feel it, seared through her like the lightning flashing outside, and something in her chest softened. He gripped her hip and adjusted the angle, going deeper. The shaft of his cock rubbed against her clit, and she lost it, pulled under by the weight of the pleasure crashing over her. Heat flushed her body and she throbbed and pulsed around him, flooding his cock.
“Fuck! God, Adam…fuck, yes, shit, I can’t…Holy fuck,” she stuttered out, pretty sure her heart was doing its best to slam its way free of her ribs.
He pulled her even closer, her hair tangled around his hand, and with a low groan, buried himself inside her, so deep she could feel each pulse of his orgasm as he came. The rain streaked against the windows, thunder rumbling around them as she caught her breath.
“Please tell me we can do that again,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.
He laughed quietly. “I thought you didn’t like me.” He trailed his fingers over her shoulder, staring at her skin, at the freckles there, a half smile on his face. The freckles. God. As though she was enough for him, just the way she was.
She screwed her mouth to the side, trying to hide her smile and ignoring the small niggling fear that she could get in too deep with him. He kissed her, slow and sweet and lingering. He lifted his head and brushed his nose against hers. “Charlie likes Adam,” he said in a teasing sing-song voice. “Charlie likes Adam.”
She scrunched her nose up. “Does not.” But he moved inside her, still mostly hard, and she clenched around him.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Does too.”
She laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.
Chapter 6
Adam lay sprawled on his stomach on Charlie’s bed, his face buried between her thighs as he swirled his tongue over her clit. Her hands tightened in his hair, and he knew she was getting close. They’d only been sleeping together for a week, but he was already learning her cues, her likes and dislikes.
“Oh God, yes. Right there. Don’t stop,” she panted, her thighs shaking under his hands.
He moaned and moved his tongue against her in the same steady rhythm. Fuck, it was so unbelievably hot when she came, that gorgeous flush sweeping across her skin, her entire body shaking as his name fell from her lips. She got wetter under his mouth and his dick twitched against the mattress, despite the fact that less than fifteen minutes ago Charlie had just gotten him off with probably the best blow job of his life. He’d finished up work for the day and jumped into her shower, washing away the sweat and the sawdust clinging to him. She’d joined him in what was becoming their daily routine, although the blow job was a new—and highly welcome—addition.
He couldn’t get enough of her. And yeah, it was the sex, which was mind-blowingly great, but it was her. Charlie. She was smart, and fun, and sarcastic and just…everything, really. She was still pretending that it was only sex between them, but he knew that what was happening between them was a hell of a lot more than just sex. And he was willing to wait for her to figure that out on her own.
And until she did, he was happy to fuck her brains out on a daily basis. More than daily, at the rate they were going.
And if she didn’t figure it out? This was all going to blow up in his face and would probably be painful and messy. But it was a chance he was willing to take. He’d survived loss before, and if he needed to, he could do it again. If anyone was worth the risk, it was Charlie.
“Oh God, Adam! Yes!” Her nails raked over his scalp and he sucked her clit into his mouth. She bucked against him, hot and wet under his mouth as she came. He nipped at the insides of her thighs, and then trailed his mouth up her belly and over her hips, kissing a path up her body before lying down beside her and pulling her into his arms. She nestled her head against his chest, her fingers teasing through his chest hair.
She sat up suddenly, pulling away. “I almost forgot,” she said, turning and pulling open the drawer of her nightstand. “I got you something.” The drawer slammed shut and she thrust an envelope in his face.
He took it and peered inside, and then smiled. “Red Sox tickets? You didn’t have to do that.”
She shrugged and snuggled back down into him. “I wanted to. As a thank you. And I have a connection, so it really wasn’t a big deal. Take your friend. Asshat neighbor guy.”
He wanted to go with her, not Jared, but he decided not to push it. So instead, he laid the envelope on the bed and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. “Thanks, Charlie.”
“You’re welcome. So, I’ve been wanting to ask you. What’s the deal with the cupcake?” she asked, her fingers once again moving back and forth over his chest.
He smiled and pressed another kiss into her hair. “I lost a bet.”
She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised and an adorable smirk on her flushed face. “Wow. That’s commitment.”
“Hey, I’m a man of my word.”
She studied him and a heavy silence stretched between them, and for a second, he thought she might challenge him. Instead, she moved her hand from his chest to his shoulder, where the word “loyalty” was inked on his skin. With a small, contemplative sigh, she traced her fingers over the word.
“You could get it lasered off,” she whispered, and he captured her hand in his, weaving their fingers together.
“Nah. It’s grown on me. Besides, you can’t just erase mistakes.”
“No. I guess you can’t.”
“As long as you learn from them, you’re doing something right.”
She laughed softly and traced her thumb over the back of his knuckles, her skin pale against his tanned and scarred hand. “So…speaking of mistakes…what happened? With your divorce, I mean. Is it okay to ask about that?”
“Yeah, it’s okay.” He paused before continuing, trying to figure out how to explain something he was still trying to understand. “There’s no one reason, really. Ultimately, we grew apart and wanted different things. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just…” He shrugged, and she nestled tighter against him. “It ran its course, I guess. To be honest, I still don’t fully understand how it happened.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her nose. “But I don’t regret it. Not anymore. It was hard, but I’ve made peace with it.”
A hint of fear flashed in her eyes, the same fear he’d seen the day they’d first kissed, the first time they’d had sex.
“How?” she whispered, her fingers tracing the wings of the dragon on his chest.
He thought about it for a minute. “Time, I guess. And knowing that it was for the best. I think we’re both happier now. We did some crazy shit trying to fix it toward the end, because neither of us wanted to face the truth that it was over.”
“What kind of crazy shit?”
“Well, she kept dropping hints about how hot guys with waxed chests are. Finally, she came out and admitted it’d really turn her on if I did it. So I did.”
Charlie laughed. “Dude. You waxed your chest for her? Wow.”
He laughed too, warmth spreading through him. “I know, right? Hurt like a motherfucker, and was itchy as hell when it grew back in. Guys on my crew probably thought I had fleas.”
She ran her fingers through his chest hair. “I like that you’re furry. It’s manly. It suits you.”
“Good, because I’m not doing that again.”
“Okay, so you ripped hair out of
your body. What other crazy shit did you try?”
He smiled and pulled her closer, a little surprised at how easy it was to share all of this with her. “Ah. Well. There was the grapefruit incident.”
She pressed her lips together, hiding a smile. “Tell me.”
“You ever heard of a grapefruit blow job?”
“Uh, no. I definitely have not.”
“Okay, so the idea is that you cut the ends off a grapefruit so that you’ve got a ring. I think she read about it in fuckin’ Cosmo or some shit. So anyway, you got the ring, and then you…you know. You put the ring at, the, uh, the bottom, and move it with your hand while…” He could feel his face getting warmer as he spoke.
She laughed. “I think I get the picture. So what happened?”
“It was messier than expected, and some of the juice from the grapefruit…it got in there. Like—” he pointed down toward his waist. “In there.”
Charlie laughed so hard the bed started to shake.
“I’m glad my pain amuses you,” he said, tickling her ribs.
She squealed and then squirmed against him. “So you don’t want me to go downstairs and get an orange?” she asked, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes sparkled down at him, all fear gone, and he smiled. “Or maybe a banana? You could bend over, and—”
He pulled her down and cut her off with a hard kiss. “We both know you don’t have any fresh fruit in this house, smartass.”
She laughed against his mouth and melted back into him, climbing on top of him. He wove his fingers into her hair, and the kiss changed into something sweeter and deeper.
“I have a favor to ask you,” she said, kissing just below his ear. “And it’s totally cool if you say no, because it’s not like we’re, you know, dating or anything.”
“If it’s working on some of the other repairs around your house, I’ve already got it penciled in.” He and his crew were almost finished with the deck, but no way did that mean he planned to stop seeing Charlie every day.
