Chapter Eleven #5
Once back home, we walk into the house holding hands but break apart in silent agreement so Charlie can tend to Cupcake.
He takes her out back so she can do her business, and I have to stop myself from losing my shit in the kitchen.
We aren’t saying the words, but it’s in every touch, every look, every silent moment that feels heavy in a good way, which I never knew was fucking possible, by the way.
I never knew it could feel like this, so comforting and easy.
I thought love was hard and painful, but I’ve been wrong most of my life.
Love is easy and kind, like my dads, River, and Charlie have shown me.
Charlie comes back in with a grin, patting the top of Cupcake’s head as he gives her a rawhide and tucks her into her dog bed.
When Charlie comes to a slow stop in front of me in the kitchen, he looks both equally shy and beautiful.
He’s every wish I’ve ever made come true.
But I don’t say any of that, because I can’t yet, but I want to soon.
When the time is right. Instead of saying anything useless that can’t begin to compare with the enormity of the moment, I bury my hands in his hair and tug him down to me.
Charlie goes easily, which is so very Charlie.
I moan into his mouth, pressing against him until we’re aligned head to toe.
His belt buckle digs into my stomach as he presses me against the counter.
I pull away with a gasp and bite back a loud moan when he buries his face in my neck, biting at the sensitive skin until I’m a puddle of desire.
“Your bedroom, your bedroom,” I mumble in a mantra, until Charlie gets the hint and tugs away, pulling me by my arm toward his room.
We laugh as we hop around and tug our shoes off.
Before I know it, Charlie has me pressed down into the bed, and he’s straddling me in a way that is absolutely no way good for his knee.
“Your knee,” I say as he tugs my shirt off. I sit up halfway, close enough that I can see if there’s any pain in his face.
Charlie chuckles. “I’m fine, Tuck. I’m fine.” He spreads his hands across my chest, down my arms, lip caught between his teeth. A moment goes by, emotion heavy in the air, before he leans forward to whisper in my ear, “I want to take care of you.”
“Me first,” I say quickly, then flip him over. Air rushes out of him, probably a mix of surprise and lust, before he relaxes back into the bed without an ounce of fight. “You’re so easy for it.”
“Easy for you,” Charlie clarifies before quickly fumbling for the button of my jeans.
I let him unhook the button, let him push my jeans down to my hips, only pulling away to shimmy out of my jeans the rest of the way.
My turn. I’m slower and more patient than Charlie because we have all the time in the world.
The room tilts when I get him out of his clothes.
He’s so fucking beautiful. Maybe it’s that I find his soul gorgeous, so it radiates outward, but I think in a room full of people, Charlie will always be the most gorgeous.
He shivers under my touch as I delicately skip my fingers over the firm planes of his stomach, over the slight fuzz above his belly button, over the scar above his knee.
I want to touch him forever and memorize every inch of him, until my brain knows exactly how to please him.
I’ve never felt this way about someone before.
Never felt the urge to protect someone from the worst things in life, all while knowing Charlie would rather take a bullet than let me feel an ounce of pain.
Maybe I had to suffer before, to find Charlie now.
Maybe every bad thing in my life led me to this moment, to where I finally believe I’m worthy of a love as profound and calm as Charlie’s.
I press open-mouthed kisses to his thighs, loving the scratch of hair against my mouth.
Charlie places a gentle hand on my head, not guiding me anywhere, just warm and comforting.
So very Charlie. I kiss up his thigh, kiss the junction of his hips, kiss just to the right of his perfectly sized cock.
His dick is thick and long, exactly how I’d imagined it would be.
I bury my nose in the base of his well-groomed dick, taking a deep breath, and Charlie groans from the pit of his belly.
I look up toward him, and his face is so full of desire that I’m shaken to my core.
His hand reverently cups my face, thumb sweeping across my mouth.
I can’t help but kiss the pad of his thumb before leaning back to lick at the head of his cock.
Charlie’s gaze sharpens as he watches, hand moving to gently rest on my shoulder as I sink down all the way onto his cock.
He tastes like salt and musk, and my mouth waters at the burst of flavor on my tongue.
I can’t help the moan of pleasure that escapes me as the head of his dick hits the back of my throat. I want more of him, all of him—all.
“Fuck, Tucker,” Charlie says with a groan, head tilting to the side as he watches with blown pupils. I feel like a king when he looks at me like that. “That feels so good, fuck.”
I swallow his cock and curl my arms around his legs, hooking them over my shoulders.
Charlie’s fingers dig into my neck, the best sign to keep going I ever could’ve gotten.
I pull off slowly, swirl my tongue around his tip, then dip back down to suck him to the back of my throat.
I do this over and over until Charlie’s legs are shaking around my head, his stomach convulsing where my hand rests just over his belly button.
A thin layer of sweat covers his skin, but I want to make him go crazy, I want to make him let go.
I pull off and suck just on the tip for a few seconds, swirling my tongue, tasting every inch of him that he’ll let me.
His hand trails across my shoulder to grab my bicep, fingers curling hard against my skin as if he needs something to hold on to or risk floating into the sky.
I reach a hand down to take my cock out of my boxers, swiping my hand up and down to take some of the edge off.
Making Charlie come could get me off without any further touch; just seeing him so full of desire for me is enough.
“I wanna come together,” Charlie says, voice wrecked. “Please, please come up here,” he begs, and I can’t deny him when he sounds so gone.
I crawl up his body, kissing as I go, paying attention to every inch of his exceptional body.
Charlie groans when I reach his mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, uncoordinated, but perfect in a way I’ll never be able to put into words.
Charlie wraps his legs around me and bucks up, forcing our cocks to slide together.
Charlie moans against my mouth and bucks up again, clearly wanting to come.
I pull away, spit into my hand, then wrap my fingers around our cocks and fuck into my grip like I’m fucking him.
Charlie tosses his head back and basically melts.
“Please, please, please, Tucker.”
I lean over him and roughly press our mouths together, and I come just as he shatters underneath me.
His release coats my hand, but I don’t stop fucking into my grip until Charlie shivers underneath me, clearly oversensitive.
I slow our kiss, turning it from desperate and debauched to tender and full of the weight of what I feel for him.
Charlie wraps his arms around me, holding me close so that I can’t even attempt to get away, not like I’d even entertain trying.
Somehow the steadiness of Charlie has turned my urge to run into the urge to stay. It’s a magic all of its own.
“Tucker,” Charlie sighs dreamily against my mouth.
“Charlie,” I say back, letting everything I feel bleed into his name.
Charlie grins happily, then pulls away to tug my head into the crook of his sweaty neck. We’re both damp with sweat, and the cum is drying between us—on my hand too—but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here, in the cage of Charlie’s arms.
The next morning, I wake to find Charlie watching me sleep.
His fingers dance across my cheek, and he smiles sheepishly when our eyes meet.
Early morning light slashes through his hair, making him look more like an avenging angel than a human.
Maybe that’s just the lovesickness talking. It’s hard to tell anymore.
“Mornin’,” Charlie says in what I’m coming to learn is his morning voice.
“Morning.”
Charlie’s lips quirk in a smile. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” I say as I make a grab for his hips to tug him close. Charlie rolls away with a delighted laugh. “Hey!”
Charlie aims a look at me over his shoulder. “For food, Tucker James. Come on.”
He tosses one of his hoodies onto the bed in clear demand for me to wear it.
When I slip it over my head, his eyes go sort of mushy and his mouth does that trembling thing at the corner that tells me he’s holding back a besotted smile.
I’ll have to wear his clothes more often if it makes him look at me like I’m the only person who exists on this planet.
“Can I at least get a good-morning kiss?”
Charlie returns to the bed to kiss me softly, just a gentle glide of lips.
I want more, as I usually do, but he dances away from me like the minx he is.
I watch him go, his round ass bouncing as he walks, and I have to take a minute to will my dick into submission.
I brush my teeth and do my morning ablutions before padding out to the kitchen, where I find Charlie.
“Help me make a quiche.”
I lift my brows in question. “That’s a fancy breakfast for a weekday.”
Charlie shrugs lazily. “We’ve got the time.”
He’s right. We do. Charlie grabs eggs and vegetables out of the fridge, then slides a cutting board and knife over to me.
“Chop them up for me?”
“Any old way?”
Charlie sends me a quizzical look. “Cut them how you want to eat them.”
God, he’s such a gentle soul. I get to cutting up the green and red peppers, dicing them into small pieces that’ll be bite size in the quiche.
We work together as a team for a bit in the early light of morning.
Cupcake makes some pleased noises out in the living room, and I have the odd urge to ensure she’s been outside.
I pause in cutting and look over at Charlie, meaning to ask him, but all thoughts leave my head as I watch him carefully crack eggs into a bowl.
How can a man be so gentle at everything he does?
Especially a man who spent his career on a football field?
I think Charlie was made in a lab just for me. I’m sure of it.
Charlie shoots me another curious look. “What?”
I lean over, curl my hand over his jaw, and tug him down for a soft kiss. He makes a pleased noise, as he usually does, and lets me kiss my fill of him. When I pull away, his eyes are glazed, his lips spit wet.
“Thank you for making your home safe for me.” I mostly mean it because of the gluten, but I also mean that I’ve never once felt like I had to walk on eggshells in this home.
I’ve never once felt like I don’t belong, like he didn’t want me here.
Charlie has never made me feel unwanted.
I don’t think he could even try to make me feel that way. “Thank you, Charlie.”
Charlie lifts a hand to rub under my eye, and his thumb comes away wet.
I’m crying and didn’t realize it. Charlie presses a sweet kiss to my forehead, ignoring the emotion in my voice.
Thank God. If he tried to talk to me right now, I’d either run away or say something I’m not ready to say.
Further proof Charlie knows me better than I realized.
“Let’s finish cooking,” Charlie says a moment later, eyes bright and happy.
The warmth of the morning seeps into me, deep into my bones, and I know this is the hope I’ve spent my life simultaneously chasing and running away from.
But for some reason with Charlie, it doesn’t scare me and doesn’t spur me into fleeing.
I’ll reckon that into something one day, but for now I’ll just be comfortable beside him and hope that’s enough.