Chapter 9
9
CHARLIE
I don’t know how I ended up in Nova’s kitchen with a jar of peanut butter and a bag of marshmallows, but I’m not exactly mad about it. Nova stares at me from the other end of the table with her chin in her hand, a wildly arousing combination of impatience and amusement etched across her face. Her left eyebrow ticks up every time I pull a new marshmallow out of the bag, and I wonder how much I can get away with before she kicks me out of her house.
I like pushing her buttons. She makes the cutest faces when I do.
“Good ’mallows,” I tell her, mouth half full, cheek bulging. It’s not my normal seduction routine, but nothing is normal when it comes to Nova. “Thanks for the snack.”
“You grabbed it yourself,” she drawls, leaning back in her chair. She took off her jacket in the entryway and I can’t stop looking at the slope of her bare shoulder or the inked lines that dance down her skin. Twisted vines. Flowers bursting from in between.
I could spend all night learning the art that decorates her body. I just might.
But she needs to ask me first.
She still hasn’t asked me.
I dip another marshmallow into the peanut butter. Nova sighs.
“Charlie.”
“Hmm?”
She sighs again and I roll my lips against my smile. “What are you doing?”
I pop the marshmallow into my mouth. “Waiting for you to ask me a question.”
Also waiting for her to change her mind. I don’t want to pressure her. I don’t want to make assumptions about what she does or doesn’t want.
I want to hear the words.
“This is the longest buildup to a one-night stand I’ve ever had in my life.” She sighs.
“Is that what we’re doing?”
She is unamused. “Charlie.”
“You know what I want to hear,” I tell her. Though her repeating my name like that in that sassy tone of hers is sort of doing it for me too. I busy my hands with closing the jar to the peanut butter while Nova pushes back her chair.
The screech of it is loud in the quiet of the kitchen. My throat tightens as she moves around the table. Is she going to ask me to leave? Is this the final straw? Have I pushed too hard, asked for too much? I’m still not clear on why Nova wants anything from me.
But instead of grabbing my jacket off the hook in the hall and tossing it in my face, Nova pads over to me in her sock-covered feet and props her hip against the table at my side. The edges of her skirt brush against my fingertips, and I have to tilt back in my seat to get a good look at her face.
Her cheeks are pink, her eyes are dark, and her hair is a deep golden tangle in the light from above the stove.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more beautiful, and I’ve done a whole lot of looking where Nova Porter is concerned.
“Charlie,” she says, her voice a honeyed rasp, “would you like to stay for a night of hot, passionate sex?”
She’s done teasing, I guess. I swallow hard and shift in my chair. “I would. Thank you for asking.”
She lifts herself up, sliding back on the table in front of me. Her knee nudges the bag of marshmallows. Her foot taps the side of my chair.
“I need to tell you something first.” I clear my throat, staring hard at where her skirt rides higher against her thighs. “Before our night of hot, passionate sex.”
Her eyebrows climb her forehead. “If you tell me you want me to bark like a dog while we do it, we’re going to have some problems.”
A laugh sputters out of me and I rest my hand on her thigh. I spread my fingers wide and squeeze gently. She shivers.
“No. I don’t want you to bark like a dog. Do you want me to bark like a dog?”
She shakes her head. The color in her cheeks deepens with my hand on her.
I blow out a deep breath. “I did bribe the DJ.”
Her forehead creases. “You what?”
“I did bribe the DJ. The night of the wedding. I told him if he saw me dancing with you, he should immediately change the song to a slow one.”
“Ah.” Her face lights up, delighted. “How’d you know I’d dance with you?”
I squeeze her thigh again. “I’m a persistent man.”
“That you are.”
She leans back on her palms, legs tipping half an inch wider in front of me. My heart trips over itself before cranking into double-time. It’s entirely possible I won’t survive the night.
“It leads me to my next point,” I manage from a throat that feels too tight. Christ, the look of her. She’s temptation wrapped in ink and a cozy-looking sweater, her socked feet swinging back and forth. I bet if I pushed her knees wider, I could see what color underwear she’s hiding under that pretty skirt.
She arches an eyebrow. “Which is?”
I forget what I was going to say. “What?”
“You were going to confess another deep, dark secret.”
“That’s right.” I rub my thumb over her tights. “I wanted an excuse to touch you. That night. That’s why I wanted a slow song.”
A smile hitches the corner of her mouth. “You’re touching me right now.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing about it. I touched you once, and I only wanted to touch you more. I want to keep touching you. I want to make you feel good.” I’m hanging on by a thread here. I slip my hand higher until it’s beneath her skirt. Her skin is warm, her tights smooth beneath my palm. “I want a lot of things, Nova.”
I want to hear her say my name again. I want to hear her beg it. I want to unravel her so thoroughly, she knows exactly what it feels like to be undone. I want to leave my mark on her, not just with my mouth and with my teeth, but with the memory of this night and all the delicious things I plan to do to her. This might be a one-night stand, but I want her to think about me tomorrow. I want her to think about me for a while.
She swings her legs back and forth. “Well, I can’t say I don’t like the direction of your thoughts.” Her tongue wets her bottom lip, and I track the motion, a thrill of heat zipping up my spine.
My fingertips brush something lacey at the top of her thigh. I glance down at my hand and rub my thumb back and forth, considering. When I flip up the edge of her skirt to take a look, she laughs at whatever dumbstruck expression paints itself across my face.
Thigh highs.
She’s wearing thigh highs.
I pull my hand back from her thigh and drop it to safer territory down by her ankle, letting my forehead fall against her knee. I rock my head there, back and forth, and try to get control of myself.
“I need a minute,” I mumble.
“Take several minutes. I didn’t mean to send you into a tailspin.” She combs her fingers through my hair.
I squeeze her ankle. “Sure you did,” I mumble.
This is good. This is great. One night and maybe I’ll be able to knock Nova out of my head a little bit. I’ll get rid of whatever this little infatuation is, and we can both exist in this town with the people we love without all of this…tension spinning circles and making me dizzy. No more back and forth. Just peaceful coexistence.
Nova taps her fingers down my neck. “Would you like to set some rules? For tonight?”
“Well, we’ve already established we won’t be barking like dogs.” I lean back. “What sort of rules did you have in mind?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever known a one-night stand the way I know you. Will rules make you more comfortable?”
I drop my chin to her thigh and gaze up at her along the lines of her body. She falters at the implication of the position, her eyelashes fluttering.
“Ah,” I grin and tuck a quick kiss to her kneecap. Her leg jumps. “You like my head between your legs, Nova girl?”
She flicks me in the forehead. “Don’t distract me. Rules. Let’s hear them.”
I rub at the spot between my eyebrows. “I don’t know. You’re the one who brought up rules.”
“Should we…not kiss?” Her whole face scrunches up, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows. “Is that too much?”
I snort. “You trying to Pretty Woman me, Nova?”
“What? No. I don’t even know what that means.”
I lean back in the chair. “Do you like to be kissed?” I ask.
She watches me, evaluating. Her tongue peeks out at the corner of her peach-pink lips and I shift my legs. Her gaze slips down my neck, taking inventory. It lingers on my shirt, the spot where I have two buttons undone. Heat rolls down my spine.
“Yeah,” she says, her eyes snapping back to mine. “I like to be kissed.”
“Then I’ll be kissing you.”
She nods. “Good.”
“What else?” I ask. My restraint is a quickly fraying rope. I want to flip up her little black skirt and inspect the tops of her lacy thigh highs again. I want to know if her underwear matches. I want to see that rose between her breasts and uncover the rest of the art I know she’s hiding. I want to trace it with my teeth and then my tongue. My hands too.
Her chest rises and falls with her breathing, her oversized sweater slipping down her shoulder until it catches in the crook of her elbow. I lean forward and hook two fingers into her collar, tugging down until I catch a glimpse of beige lace. I swallow and adjust her sweater so she’s covered again.
“Your bra has butterflies on it,” I say, my voice grim. I am completely and totally fucked.
She blinks at me, her eyes heavy. “It does.”
“Little ones.”
A smile curls the edge of her mouth. “Yep.”
“What else, Nova?”
“What else…has butterflies?”
Christ. Now I’m imagining tiny butterflies on her underwear too. Maybe the tops of those thigh-high-tight-sock-things she’s wearing. “No. What other rules do you want to discuss?”
“I don’t know, the rules were for you.”
I nod and drag my palm against my jaw. “Okay. Let’s make it easy.”
I stand and the chair tips over behind me. I plant both of my hands on the table by her hips and lean forward until my forehead is pressed to hers. She grabs my arms and the jar of peanut butter rolls off the table. After all of our half touches, this feels like jumping into the deep end. Swinging from the edge of a rope and flipping head over heels into crystal clear water.
I gently grab her face with my hand, holding her steady. I trace my thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll take care of you. You’ll take care of me. We’ll do what feels good, and if you get uncomfortable, you let me know. We don’t need rules for that.”
She nods and her nose brushes against mine. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat. “I do want one thing though.”
She smiles, her mouth a millimeter away from mine. “I want more than one thing.”
A laugh slips out of me. Yeah, I do too. But I want this one thing more than I want all my fantasies combined. It’s not worth it to me otherwise. “You’ll talk to me tomorrow. You won’t hide from me. I refuse to be a regret, Nova.”
She leans back slightly, just far enough so that her eyes can peer up into mine. Understanding flashes there. “Of course I’ll talk to you. We’ll still be friends tomorrow. This is one night. We’ll get it out of our systems and everything will go back to normal, yeah?”
Relief is a swift undercurrent to the anticipation making my skin feel hot. I slip my hands beneath her thighs and lift. She makes a cute little squeak and wraps herself around me.
“Good. Let’s go.”