CHAPTER EIGHT
Charlotte
I woke slowly, my body heavy and sore in the best possible way.
Every muscle ached. My thighs felt like I’d run a marathon.
And between my legs—God, between my legs I was tender with a delicious, throbbing soreness that reminded me with every tiny movement exactly what we’d done.
How thoroughly he’d claimed me. How completely I’d surrendered.
Memories of last night flooded back in vivid detail.
Crew’s mouth on me. His hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. The way he’d commanded me, possessed me, made me scream his name until my voice went hoarse. The way he’d made me come again and again until I’d begged him to stop, then begged him for more.
Heat flooded through me, and I had to press my thighs together against the immediate response of my body.
I already wanted him again despite the soreness, despite how thoroughly he’d used me last night.
My core clenched, empty now but remembering exactly how full I’d been, how deep he’d reached, how perfectly he’d stretched me.
He was still asleep beside me, one arm thrown over his head, the other wrapped possessively around my waist even in sleep. The sheet had slipped down to his hips, revealing all that scarred, muscled chest. Every ridge and plane of muscle, every raised scar that told stories he’d never shared.
I know there’d be marks on his back, and it gave me a sense of satisfaction to know I’d done that—left evidence of my possession.
Just like he’d marked me. I could feel the beard burn on the inside of my thighs, rough and red where his beard had scraped as he’d—I shuddered at the memory.
I touched the bite mark on my breast and then the fingerprint bruises on my hips where he’d held me in place.
The tenderness at my entrance proved exactly how big he was, how thoroughly he’d filled me.
I was marked inside and out, branded as his, and God help me, I loved it.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, making me jump. I grabbed it quickly, not wanting to wake Crew, and my stomach dropped when I saw the time—and seven missed calls. Three from Dale. Four from—oh God—from Stone.
Shit.
The phone started buzzing again, Evie’s name flashed on the screen.
I carefully extracted myself from Crew’s arm—he mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t wake. I grabbed his flannel shirt from the floor and put it on. It smelled like him. And sex. It smelled like sex, like us, like what we’d done.
I answered the phone as I slipped into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind me.
“Hey, Evie,” I whispered.
“Oh my God, Charlotte.” Evie’s voice was a mix of relief and excitement. “Are you okay? Dale called Stone this morning because you and Crew didn’t show up at the mill, and you didn’t call in. You haven’t missed a day of work in years.”
“I’m fine, we’re fine. We got caught in that snow squall yesterday and had to stop at a hotel.” I leaned against the bathroom counter, trying to keep my voice down. “I’m sorry, I should have called.”
“Wait.” Evie’s voice sharpened with interest. “Are you... are you blushing? I can freaking hear you blushing through the phone. Charlotte Adams, what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” I lied, feeling my cheeks flame hotter. Feeling heat flood through my entire body at the memories—his hands, his mouth, his cock, the things he’d said to me, the way he’d made me beg.
“Bullshit. Tell me. Tell me what happened right now or I’m telling Stone he needs to send out a search party.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I sighed, pressing my hand to my heated face. “We... may have... done something.”
“Done something.” Evie’s grin was audible. “Did you sleep with him?”
“Evie—”
“Oh my God, you did! You totally did! Charlotte, I’m so proud of you!” She squealed, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Tell me everything. Was it good? Please tell me it was good.”
“It was—” I couldn’t find words. Couldn’t describe what last night had been. Mind-blowing? Life-changing? So intense I could barely walk? “It was really good.”
“Really good? That’s all you’re giving me?” Evie laughed. “Come on, details!”
“I can’t—there are things I did that I can’t believe I did.” My voice dropped even lower. “Evie, he’s so... he’s intense. And commanding. And the things he said to me—”
The filthy, dirty things that had made me come so hard. The way he’d called me his, the way he’d praised me, the way he’d told me exactly what he was going to do to me before he did it.
Of course, I couldn’t share any of that with her.
“Oh, this is delicious. Keep going.”
“I’m sore,” I admitted, my face burning.
“That good, huh?” Evie’s voice was full of satisfaction. “I knew it. I knew you two would combust eventually. So what happens now? Are you guys—”
The bathroom door opened.
My heart stopped.
Crew stood in the doorway, completely naked, his hair disheveled, his eyes dark with concern.
And God, he was magnificent. All hard muscle and masculine beauty, his cock already half-hard despite everything we’d done last night.
My body immediately responded, ready for him despite the soreness, despite everything. “Charlotte?”
“I, um, I’ve got to go. Can you call Dale and tell him we’ll be in later.”
“He’s awake isn’t he? I’m hanging up now. Use protection! Or don’t. I want to be an aunt—”
“Evie!” But she was already laughing, the line going dead.
I set the phone down on the counter, very aware of Crew’s eyes tracking every movement.
Very aware that I was wearing only his shirt.
Very aware of the way his gaze heated as it traveled over me, lingering on my bare legs, on the way his shirt gaped open to reveal the marks he’d left on my breasts.
Very aware of the way his cock was thickening, hardening, his body responding to the sight of me in his clothes.
“Everything okay?” His voice sent shivers down my spine.
“Fine. Just Evie calling because we didn’t show up at the mill this morning.” I gestured vaguely toward the window. “The storm. I should have called.”
He moved into the bathroom, stalking toward me like a predator, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made me want to drop to my knees right there. He braced his hands on the counter, caging me in.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
“I—yeah. Mine was... I couldn’t find it.”
“It looks good on you.” His eyes dropped to where the flannel gaped open, revealing the bite mark on my breast. His bite mark. Proof that I belonged to him now. “Though I prefer you in nothing.”
Before I could respond, he reached past me and turned on the shower. Steam immediately started filling the small space.
“Crew, what are you—”
He grabbed my wrist, not hard, just firm. Possessive. The touch sent heat racing through my veins, making me remember, making me want. “Waiting for the water to warm up. Then I’m getting you in that shower.”
“I’m sore,” I admitted shyly.
“I know.” His thumb traced circles on my inner wrist. “I saw the way you were walking. I see the marks I left.” He bent his head and kissed the top of my breast. “Too sore?”
I bit my lip, torn between my body’s ache and the heat already building low in my belly just from having him this close. How could I want him again so soon? How could my body already be ready when I could barely walk? “I... yes. No. Maybe?”
“We’ll just…” He smiled and stripped his shirt off me in one smooth motion.
He stepped into the shower and pulled me in beside him. I didn’t know why, but this seemed much more intimate than anything we’d done last night.
He reached for the small bottle of hotel shampoo. “Turn around. Let me wash you.”
I obeyed, and his hands were gentle as he worked the shampoo through my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp.
This was so different from the rough passion of last night but somehow just as powerful.
This tenderness undid me in a completely different way.
He rinsed it carefully, making sure no soap got in my eyes, then moved on to the conditioner.
“This okay?” His hands slid down my neck, my shoulders, kneading sore muscles. “Not too rough?”
“Perfect,” I sighed, leaning back against him. Feeling his chest against my back, his arms around me, his cock hard against my lower back. Perfect and safe and exactly where I wanted to be.
He worked his way down my body, his touch both soothing and arousing.
When his hands reached my breasts, his touch changed—still gentle but with more purpose.
His thumbs brushed over my nipples, making them tighten and ache, the sensitivity heightened from all his attention last night.
They were tender from his mouth, from his teeth, and the touch sent sparks of pleasure-pain straight to my core.
“Crew—”
“Just checking,” he murmured against my ear. “Making sure you’re not too sore here.”
His hands moved lower, over my stomach, my hips. Tracing the fingerprint bruises he’d left, a possessive touch that said he was cataloging every mark, every sign of his claim.
And then he touched me between my legs.
I gasped as his fingers found me, already slick. Already wet and ready despite the tenderness, despite everything. My body was his now, responding instantly to even the promise of his touch.
“What about here?” One finger slid inside me, careful, gentle, but still making me gasp at the stretch, at the tender fullness. I had to bite my lip at the sensation. I was tender, sensitive, but God it felt good. “Too sore?”
“No,” I managed. My hips rocking against his hand, seeking more. “Not too sore.”
“Sure?” He added another finger, stretching me gently, working me open with patient thoroughness, and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped. “Because if you need me to stop—”
“Don’t stop.” My hands braced against the tile wall as his fingers worked inside me. “Please don’t stop.”
“Good girl.” The praise sent heat flooding through me. It made me clench around his fingers and want to be good for him, to please him, to earn more of those words. “I love how responsive you are. How your pussy clenches around my fingers even though I fucked you raw last night.”
His dirty words combined with his touch were driving me crazy. I was already close, my body still primed from last night, still desperate for him.
“Crew,” I gasped. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” He withdrew his fingers, and then his hands were on my hips, positioning me. Angling me exactly how he wanted me, bending me forward, spreading me open. “Hands on the wall, baby. Let me take care of you.”
He entered me slowly from behind, so slowly I felt every thick inch, felt the stretch, felt my body accept his
“Okay?” His voice was strained with the effort of not just slamming into me the way we both wanted.
“Yes. God, yes. Move.”
He did, his thrusts slow and deep, his hands gentle on my hips.
This was different from last night—less frantic, more thorough.
Like he was savoring every inch, every sensation.
Like he was memorizing the feel of me, like he was making love to me instead of just fucking me.
The intimacy of it made my chest tight, made my throat close with emotion I wasn’t ready to name.
One hand slid around to find my clit, circling it gently with perfect pressure, with the exact rhythm I needed, and I felt the pressure building low in my belly.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. His voice dark and approving, making me want to please him more. “Feel how deep I am? How perfectly this pussy fits around my cock? “
“Yes,” I moaned, pushing back against him. Meeting his thrusts, taking him deeper, needing more despite everything. “Harder. Please, harder.”
“I thought you were sore?” I could hear the grin in his voice.
“I don’t care.” And I didn’t. The ache was nothing compared to the need. The soreness just made it better, made me feel every inch of him, made every thrust a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that I was already addicted to. “Give it to me harder.”
He obliged, his hips snapping forward with more force, and the combination of his cock hitting deep and his fingers on my clit sent me over the edge.
I came with a cry, my body clenching around him, my legs shaking and he followed seconds later with a groan, his fingers digging into my hips.
We stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing hard, the water cascading over us. Then he carefully pulled out and turned me to face him.
“You okay?” His hands cupped my face, surprisingly gentle after what we’d just done. His eyes searching mine, checking on me, making sure he hadn’t hurt me, that tenderness making my heart ache.
“More than okay.” I smiled up at him. “Though I might not be able to walk later.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“To the truck? In front of the hotel staff?”
“If I have to.” He kissed me softly. A gentle press of lips that felt like a promise, like something more than just physical release.
We finished the shower—actual washing this time—and got dressed. My jeans chafed against my tender skin, and I winced as I pulled them on.
Crew noticed. “I can still carry you.”
“I’m fine.” I grabbed his shirt instead of mine, pulling it on. “I’m keeping this.”
“It’s yours.” His eyes heated as he put on the t-shirt he’d worn beneath the flannel shirt yesterday. “Though seeing you in my clothes does things to me.”
“Good things or bad things?”
“Definitely good things.” He pulled me close for another kiss. Deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine, pulling me tight against him. “We should probably head back. Before your brother sends out a search party.”
Reality crashed back in. The mill. Work. The fact that we’d just spent the night together and I had no idea what happened next. The fact that he was here temporarily, and this was probably just one night and nothing more.
“Crew—” My voice came out uncertain, vulnerable in a way I hated.
“Later,” he said, reading my mind. His hands tightening on me, his jaw clenching like he was fighting something. “We’ll talk later. Right now, let’s just get back.”
I nodded, even though my stomach was churning with uncertainty. Even though fear was starting to creep in around the edges of the bliss. I was terrified that this meant more to me than it did to him.
Because last night had changed everything.
And I had no idea what came next.