16. Charlie
16
Charlie
W hat I felt for Ana was beyond logic. It stripped away any hesitation, leaving only a fierce need to make her happy, no matter the cost. I wanted what was best for her, even if she didn’t fully understand what that was yet. Just like when I asked her to mark me and let me mark her. She hadn’t realized how deeply she wanted that, needed that. But when she felt our love physically, the devotion etched onto us both, she understood. I needed more of that—to find new ways to show her the depth of what we shared.
Hiring someone to watch Jake had been disturbingly easy. Money shut people up and made them do whatever you needed for a couple hundred thousand—a steep cost for stalking the former President. I wasn’t certain where this would lead or what my intentions were. I just knew I wanted him to hurt, to know the fear and pain he caused Ana. Part of me wanted to scare him, to see him suffer in any way I could. Ending his life—that was still a decision I hadn’t fully weighed. I’d never done anything like this before, but then again, I’d never felt this way about anyone before. I’d do anything for her, even if it meant taking down the former President for all that he did to her. But I knew Sloane would probably be devastated if something happened to him, and her pain would trickle down to Ana.
For now, I’d have to set aside my focus on Jake and find another way that could bring Ana the justice she deserved without leaving devastation in its wake.
The only thing keeping me from dwelling on Jake was channeling my energy into the songs I was writing for Ana. I wanted to surprise her, crafting each lyric and chord with her in mind. As we sat quietly together—her absorbed in work on her laptop, me scribbling notes and arranging melodies—she had no idea that each line was tailored just for her. Songs were timeless, and even after Ana and I were gone, the world would know of my devotion to her. My songs would capture the way she smelled, the way she tasted, every way I loved and adored her.
I’d reveal them to her the day before our one-month anniversary. I wanted to take her somewhere special. The timing was perfect for us to have a little getaway—my next tour didn’t start for a couple of months. Though I hadn’t told her about it yet, it was already planned: she’d be coming with me. There was no other option. Without her, I’d cancel the whole fucking thing.
But I had to tell her sooner or later. The evening was quiet, just the two of us wrapped in the comfort of our shared space. As we sat on the couch, I had a feeling that now was the time to bring it up.
I cleared my throat, trying to catch her attention. “I wanted to talk to you about something. My tour’s coming up soon…in a couple of months.” I tried to keep my tone light, but her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“You have a tour in a couple months? And you’re just telling me now?” She set her laptop on the coffee table and crossed her arms as she sat back.
My heart sank. She was angry.
“I wanted to tell you, I just…I guess I thought it’d be easier when it was closer,” I replied, leaning closer to her. “But I was hoping you’d come with me. Actually, I need you to come with me.”
She sighed, her hands falling to her lap, her gaze following. “You’ll be busy. Even if I’m with you, it’s not like we’ll have much time together.” Her voice softened, and I took her hands with mine. “I don’t want to feel like I’m in the way, or just there in the background while everything else comes first.”
The faint jealousy in her words made me pause. It stirred a flicker of satisfaction mixed with the need to reassure her. “Ana,” I said gently. “You won’t be in the background. I’d be there with you every chance I get. I won’t do this without you.”
She hesitated, searching my face, her eyes darkened with something I recognized as the same intensity that burned in me. “But will you have time for me?”
I nodded. “I’ll make time. This tour would mean nothing if you’re not there.”
She nodded slowly, but I could see the doubt lingering in her gaze. I sensed her own need to have me close, to hold onto what we had as tightly as I did. And if she needed a reminder of how much I needed her, I’d make sure she saw it.
* * *
A few days later, the invitations for Grammy pre-parties arrived, a reminder of yet another event I couldn’t imagine facing alone. I’d been nominated for a Grammy again, this time for Album of the Year, and although it was exciting, the nerves hit me every time I thought about it. But my mind was focused on something else: the perfect way to reveal the songs I wrote for Ana. What better opportunity than a night dedicated to celebrating music?
Ana was curled up on the couch, her attention wrapped in her laptop, and I moved beside her, settling in close.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” I said, meeting her curious gaze.
Her eyebrows lifted, a look of hesitation on her face, as if she was bracing for more unexpected news. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her, I was just so wrapped up in our bubble that I honestly forgot.
“I have to attend a Grammy pre-party tomorrow. My album’s nominated for Album of the Year.” I paused, watching her reaction.
She smiled, her face lighting up with pride. “Charlie, that’s incredible. I’m so happy for you!”
I nodded, but my excitement mixed with an urgency I couldn’t hide. “I need you to come with me, Ana. I can’t go a whole night, a whole weekend, without you. You’ve got to be there with me. Besides,” I added, reaching for her hand. “It’ll be the perfect opportunity to show you something I’ve been working on.”
She tilted her head, her hazel eyes intrigued, and I knew she wasn’t going to argue. “And what’s that?”
I hesitated, wanting it to be a surprise, but I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. “I’ve been writing songs for you,” I admitted. “And I want you to hear them, to understand everything I’m putting out there. But you’ve got to be there. It’s not an option.”
She smiled, a hint of surprise and warmth in her eyes. “Charlie, I…of course I’ll be there. That sounds amazing.”
It was all coming together perfectly, and I knew this night would show her that everything I did was for her.
* * *
The next morning, Ana and I headed to the airport for our first flight together to Los Angeles. We were flying first-class, held discreetly in a private lounge and whisked through a secluded entrance without drawing any attention. I was almost disappointed—I liked the attention we drew together, the world being reminded that she was mine.
“We need to get together with Callan and Sloane while we’re in L.A.,” Ana said, resting her head on my shoulder as we soared 11,000 meters in the air.
The last thing I wanted was to see Callan or to share any part of her attention. But I only nodded, resting my hand on her thigh. “Sounds like a plan.”
We landed at LAX with only a few hours to spare before the party. I didn’t want Ana to see how nervous I was. Always craving her approval, I couldn’t help but wonder if the songs would be good enough for her. She was a fan of my music, but that didn’t mean she’d love everything I’ve written.
After we checked into our guest cottage at the Chateau Marmont in West Hollywood, we were instantly bombarded with stylists and makeup artists. I barely had a moment to appreciate mi diosa in our own secluded retreat in the garden area of the hotel.
Before I needed to get ready, I slipped away to the bedroom and practiced the parts of the songs that felt the most important. After only a half hour, I stepped out into the living room and there she was— mi diosa , looking like the most perfect being I ever laid eyes on. With her hair pulled back, every feature of her face was accentuated, her red lipstick nearly causing my heart to stop. She wore an olive green fitted dress that traced every curve, and her leg peeked out through a high slit. When she looked up and smiled at me, it was impossible not to feel completely captivated.
A stylist knelt in front of her, holding up a black, strappy heel, and an irrational jealousy flared inside me. I strode over, kneeling beside the woman and extending my hand, flashing my most charming smile.
“May I?” I asked.
The woman smiled, handing it over without hesitation.
I looked up at Ana, my perfect, beautiful diosa , and she smiled back warmly.
“Can we have a moment, please?” she called out. The room of four or five people stopped in unison, quickly scattering and leaving. The authority in her tone, the confidence in her stance, the gaze she held on me—it was enough to make me hard instantly.
As the door shut behind the last person, I lifted the heel to her foot, waiting for her approval to slip it on.
“I love seeing you on your knees for me, mi amor ,” she murmured softly. “So much so that you need to fuck me quietly, right now, while they all wait outside.”
“Yes, mi diosa ,” I replied breathlessly, the heel forgotten as I let it fall to the floor.
She leaned in, her voice a hushed demand. “Find the easiest way to fuck me and make me come without ruining all the work that went into making me look this glamorous.”
My gaze swept over her body, taking in the tight, elegant dress that clung to every curve. Impossible to fuck her in that.
“I’ll need to slip that dress off of you first, mi diosa ,” I whispered, already calculating the quickest way to obey her command.
“Quickly,” she demanded.
I rose to my feet as she turned, revealing the zipper of her dress. I carefully slid it down, making sure not to wrinkle the fabric, and she stepped out of it, turning to reveal her beautiful body, bare in only her undergarments.
“Hang it up, baby, and then fuck me,” she commanded, her gaze like fucking fire.
I spotted a hanger behind the bathroom door and carefully hooked the dress before turning back to find Ana leaning over the couch. She was completely naked, her back arched and her eyes glancing over her shoulder. The sight—her curves, her plump ass presented perfectly—sent a jolt of need straight to my cock.
I shot over to her, pulling my pants and boxer briefs down hastily, my hands gripping her hips before slamming my cock into her, the intensity of her warmth surrounding me in an instant.
“ Ay , baby, yes,” she moaned quietly, her voice laced with pleasure as I stared, mesmerized, at the way her ass jiggled against me.
“Oh, fuck, Ana… I want to live inside your sweet pussy forever,” I groaned, my hips pounding against her in a rhythm that seemed to echo throughout the room.
She exhaled, a satisfied hum. “Mmmm…make me come, and maybe I’ll consider it,” she teased playfully.
Fueled by her words, I quickened my pace, leaning over to slip my hand around her hips, finding her slick clit beneath my fingers. I rubbed fervently and within seconds, her body tensed, a loud cry escaping her as her pleasure overtook her, forgetting any need to keep quiet.
“Please, mi diosa ,” I pleaded desperately, my voice breaking. “Please let me come in your perfect pussy.”
“Yes, baby…come inside me. I want everyone to hear just how good it feels,” she whimpered, her words sending me over the edge. I burst, grunting with a primal moan that filled the cottage, her body responding to mine as our breaths began to slow.
I reluctantly pulled out, but the sight of her still bent over, my cum dripping out of her, drew me back. I dropped to my knees, parting her legs and spreading her cheeks. My tongue found her sensitive, slick folds, my taste mixed with hers. I savored every inch until her moans returned, louder and more desperate.
“Charlie,” she whispered, her breath hitching as I flicked her clit, refusing to stop until I felt her shuddering climax again.
“Charlie…we need to, we need to—” She gasped, a warning in her voice, but I simply smiled against her, knowing all of her pleasure was because of me, and everyone knew it.