The Charlie Method (Campus Diaries #3)

Chapter Twenty-Four Charlotte

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHARLOTTE

Maybe twenty

A S WE NEAR W ILL ’ S BEDROOM , I SWEAR I CAN FEEL EVERY NERVE ENDING buzzing under my skin. I’m no stranger to adrenaline. When I’m in one of Dante’s sports cars racing around the track, my blood comes alive with it. But right now, whatever’s surging through my veins is far more potent. A cocktail of adrenaline and anticipation. A dizzying drug a girl could get addicted to.

I enter the room, which is lit not by the ceiling fixture but the small lamp on the nightstand, casting a soft yellow glow over the bed. Will lingers near the door, but Beckett approaches me, his eyes searching mine.

“You sure about this?” he says.

“Yes.”

I tug on both halves of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss, and he laughs against my lips, that warm, deep sound vibrating through me. He kisses me back. Slowly. Thoroughly. He doesn’t rush it. He savors it, like he wants to take his time with me. Then, in one smooth motion, he lifts me into his arms.

My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries me to the bed. My heart thumps harder, excitement and nerves tangling together, but the second he lays me down and hovers above me, all that doubt melts away.

Beckett’s lips find mine again, but this time, the kiss is deeper. The teasing is gone, replaced with pure hunger. He’s determined to devour me. His hands are everywhere, pulling at my clothes, shoving my skirt and panties off, peeling my sweater and tank off. The socks, he leaves on.

“God, this is so sexy,” he mutters as he raises himself on his knees and gazes at me sprawled beneath him, wearing nothing but thigh-highs.

He peels his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it away. Removes his pants. Then he settles beside me, propped up on one elbow, skimming his hand down my naked body. He cups my breast, his thumb rubbing my nipple. Pinching it gently.

“ Fuck ,” I hear Will groan.

I look over to see him standing at the foot of the bed, stroking himself through his pants. His burning eyes make me self-conscious.

“What?”

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are,” he mutters. “Your body is incredible.”

“It is,” Beckett agrees. He’s nibbling on my breast now, licking my nipple while his fingers play with the other one.

“My boobs are too small,” I protest.

“Perfect handful,” he mumbles, sucking my nipple deep into his mouth.

Pleasure rockets through me. “I don’t have an ass.”

“Sure you do.” He lifts his mouth off my breast, reaching beneath me to squeeze one ass cheek.

I grumble at him. “You’re just going to disagree with everything I say.”

“If you plan on criticizing any inch of this body, then yes. You’re a goddamn weapon, Charlie. You’re dangerous.”

No one’s ever called me dangerous before. I think I like it.

I reach between us to grip his cock, pumping slowly. That gets me a groan. He’s hot and hard in my hand. I look over to see Will easing his pants down his hips, gripping his erection in his fist. Stroking himself as he watches us fool around in his bed.

“Beck,” he says. “I want to see your tongue on her clit.”

Oh my God. What is happening right now?

Beckett slides between my legs, kissing my inner thighs, licking and teasing until I’m begging for him to kiss something else. Begging for the same thing Will wants—Beckett’s tongue on me. We share that sentiment wholeheartedly.

Finally, I feel him kissing my sensitive nub, and I shudder with happiness. I lie back and enjoy it, my gaze shifting from Beckett’s mouth to Will’s face. Back and forth, because I can’t decide what’s more arousing: Beckett’s tongue flicking my clit or Will’s lust-drenched eyes as he watches him do it.

The urgency I felt downstairs has dimmed. It’s not a race to the finish anymore, a desperate, painful need for release. I’ve already had one orgasm tonight. I’m hoping for another. But this time, I want more. I want it all.

I moan when Beckett licks his way to my opening, spearing me with his tongue. It’s still not enough, though. My pussy ripples and contracts. Greedy and empty.

“I want…” I gasp, distracted by the finger he adds to the mix.

Will’s gaze finds mine. “You want what, Charlie?”

“I want someone to fuck me.”

He smiles. “Which one of us?”

“Both.”

Will joins us on the bed. His hand strokes up my thigh, gliding along my hip, my stomach, my ribs. My breath hitches when he reaches into a drawer for condoms. He tears one off the strip, kneeling beside us as he rolls it on. Then he stretches that long, muscular body behind me, lying on his side.

When I start to turn toward him, he says, “No, stay like that.”

He repositions me so I’m half on my back, half on my side. He lifts my leg, bending my knee and gripping the back of it, which pushes my core toward Beckett’s seeking mouth.

“Keep licking her,” he tells Beckett, who groans his approval.

A thrill shoots through me. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I feel pressure between my legs as the tip of Will’s cock nudges my opening. The broad head slips in half an inch. Then another. It’s the most delicious friction, but too slow.

Too. Damn. Slow.

I try to buck against him to take him fully, but he grips my hip to still me.

“Let me feed it to you, baby. I’ll give you what you need.”

Oh my God.

It suddenly registers that Beckett’s not licking me anymore. He’s rubbing my clit with his thumb, his silver eyes tracking the slow glide of his friend’s dick entering me.

“Jesus, that’s hot,” he mutters.

I peer down at him. “Really? Even with a condom?”

“I mean, it’d look hotter without it, but we don’t take risks.”

I don’t either—when it comes to sexual health anyway—but for some reason, the idea of Will sliding into me bare is a turn-on I didn’t expect. Another surprise kink of mine, I guess, and it causes my pussy to clamp around him so hard he bites my shoulder.

“Holy fuck,” Will croaks. “Why are you so tight?”

Beckett chuckles. “Dude, that was her response to imagining you doing her without a condom.”

“Stop revealing my secrets,” I complain, and he winks.

Will’s arm wraps around me, his hand covering my breast, squeezing. “You don’t like condoms?”

“I don’t mind them. But in this situation, I…”

“What about this situation is different?” He kisses my shoulder as he slips his full length inside me.

We both groan.

“If we weren’t using a condom right now, would you let me come inside you?” Will asks, his hips retreating, then plunging forward. Hard. Deep.

“Yes.”

“And then when Beck has his turn, you’d let him come inside you too?”

My pussy involuntarily squeezes him again, and he lets out a strangled cry.

Beckett chuckles, planting a kiss on my thigh before looking up at me with a devilish gleam in his eye. “Ah, that’s what it is. You want both of us to fill you up.”

I moan.

And that’s it. I’m gone. I start rocking back against Will at the same time as I grip Beckett’s blond hair and hold him against my pussy, practically forcing him to lick it. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. His tongue circles my clit before he sucks on it.

The orgasm sweeps through me. I cry out in pleasure, squeezing Will’s dick as I grind on Beckett’s tongue. Pain jolts through my hip from Will’s fingertips digging into it. I hear his low, growled curse as he suddenly thrusts one final time, as deep as he can go, and trembles from his own release.

It takes a few seconds to register the sound of Beckett’s laughter.

My eyelids flutter open to find him rolling his eyes at Will.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a quickie,” Beckett tells him, lips pressed together in mirth.

“Bro, you have no idea how good she feels.” Will nips my shoulder, then licks away the sting. His chest is still heaving. “You feel so good, Charlie.”

He pulls out slowly, and I ache at the loss. Will rolls onto his back and takes the condom off, but I don’t feel anywhere near done yet. Once again, the urgency is gone, but my body continues to hum with awareness. I swallow as Beckett crawls up my body and kisses me. His cock is heavy against my leg.

I reach between us and say, “Get a condom.”

Will stretches out his arm to grab another square packet. He tosses it to Beckett, who wastes no time putting it on.

Without a word, I meet his gaze and part my thighs for him. His eyes flash, nostrils flaring as he moves between my spread legs. He grips his shaft and guides it to the place where his friend was slamming into mere minutes ago. It should feel dirty. Wrong and taboo. Perverted or depraved or whatever other judgment someone like Agatha might spew in my direction if she knew what was happening right now.

But all I can focus on is the need in Beckett’s eyes and how badly he wants me. How badly I want him.

He pushes inside me, and I gasp at the sudden feeling of fullness. He’s thicker than Will, so it’s a different type of stretch. It feels like heaven.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he whispers.

His chin rests on my shoulder for a moment, lips grazing it before he rises on his knees, grips my hips, and pulls my body toward him. He fucks me in that position while Will lies beside me, playing with my nipples and kissing my neck.

“You were right,” he tells Will. His voice grows hoarse as his gaze shifts to me. “Your pussy is goddamn paradise. I want to live in it forever.”

My own pleasure is building again, his reverent words only fueling it. I lift my hips to meet his slow, teasing thrusts.

“Can you come again?” he asks.

I nod. “If you go faster.”

Beckett increases the tempo, each deep plunge hitting a spot inside me that makes me gasp for air.

“Will,” he says while his gaze stays locked with mine.

“I got you.” Will licks his fingers and then slides his hand between us to where we’re joined.

I moan the second he touches my clit.

Beckett drives into me harder. “I’m going to come soon,” he warns.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a quickie,” Will mocks.

Beckett chokes out a laugh.

I gasp when Will rubs my clit faster.

“Give it to Beck, baby,” he says roughly. “Don’t deprive him of that feeling of you squeezing his big cock when you come. Make him feel good, Charlie.”

There’s something so exhilarating about the way he’s requesting his friend’s pleasure be attended to while sucking on my nipple and fingering my clit.

Beckett’s features stretch taut. He bites into his lip. Then he groans and says, “Yep. Can’t stop it. Jesus fuck .”

He clasps my hips as he shudders with release, keeping my body pressed tight to his. The noises he makes and the way his chest strains with each panted breath detonate my own climax. This one is different from before. It stays localized to the spot where we’re joined, rippling around his dick.

It takes several moments for me to remember how to breathe again. Beckett collapses on top of me before shifting onto his back.

“Goddamn it,” he grunts, staring up at the ceiling.

“Fuck,” Will mutters.

Amused, I look between them. “I can’t figure out if you guys are angry.”

“Not angry,” Will assures me. He releases a breath. “I’ve just never come so fast in my life. Never seen him come that fast either.”

“Unheard of,” Beckett mumbles in agreement. “That was, what, ten strokes?”

“Maybe twenty,” Will says generously.

I laugh. “Again, can’t figure out if you’re complaining.”

“I promise we’re not.” Will rises on his elbow and peers at me ruefully. “But we were supposed to make it good for you, not be too quick on the trigger.”

“Trust me,” I say softly. “It was good for me.”

He slides closer, turning me over so I’m nestled against Beckett’s chest. Will’s dick, still semi-erect, nestles between my ass cheeks as he spoons me. A sense of contentment washes over the bedroom. Beckett runs his fingers through my hair. Will strokes my hip.

But it’s not long before the air changes. Crackles with tension again. When I feel Will’s semi thickening against my ass, I twist my head to grin at him. “Seriously?”

“I can’t help it. You’re too sexy.” He reaches over and takes my hand.

My thighs clench when he proceeds to guide my hand down to Beckett’s groin, curling my fingers around his friend’s shaft.

“Get him hard again,” Will whispers in my ear.

Oh my God.

I wake up at five o’clock the next morning, disoriented for a moment. But I’m not drunk or hungover, so it only takes a nanosecond for the memories to come rushing back. Even if they hadn’t, I’d be able to deduce exactly what occurred based on the naked guy in bed with me. Will is sprawled on his stomach, and even in the shadows, his ass looks magnificent. Beckett was in here when I fell asleep, but he must have gone to his own room sometime during the night.

There’s a soreness between my legs that doesn’t usually happen after a one-night stand. Probably because I fucked two guys last night. Multiple times. Sober.

My throat tightens as anxiety begins to tickle my stomach.

I crawl out of bed, climbing over Will, who rolls onto his back.

“Charlie? You okay?” His voice is thick with sleep.

“I’m good. Just have to take off now. I go to the gym at six every morning.”

“Who goes to the gym at six in the morning?” he mumbles.

Psychopaths, obviously. Which I’m not one of, seeing as how I’m not going to the gym. I’m getting the hell out of here and doing my walk of shame in peace, when the entire neighborhood is still asleep. A neighborhood comprised mostly of off-campus housing.

“Charlie,” Will says, still groggy. “Hold on. Let me walk you out.”

“No, it’s fine. Keep sleeping. Thank you for last night. It was fun.”

I need to get out of here before he fully wakes up and realizes that I’m fleeing like a thief in the night.

I gather the discarded clothing from the bedroom floor, then hurry downstairs. I realize I left my panties upstairs, and I bid them adieu because I will never be returning to this house. I roll my socks to my thighs. Grab my purse. My phone.

I conduct a scan of the shadowy living room to make sure I have everything. Then I run out the door, hopefully before either of them notices I’m gone.

I hope Will went back to sleep. I hope they don’t bother me or message me—

Message me. Shit.

In the front seat of my car, I quickly pull out my phone and open the app. I stare at our chat thread, and I don’t know what I’m feeling.

No, I do know what I’m feeling.

Shame.

But it’s a strange feeling, because a part of me is fighting that awful sensation, insisting there was nothing wrong about last night. And then another part pipes up to recite the thousand reasons why it was.

Does it matter, though? Does this internal battle mean a damn thing when the shame clogging my throat is so thick I can barely breathe?

Without another second of thought, I delete the app.

Last night might have been the best sex of my life, but it can never happen again.