Chapter 9 Charles
Charles
“So, be real with me.” Sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, her fingers crinkle around a burger wrapper. Tee’s Drive-In is our dinner savior, coming through while most businesses are closing early. “When was the last time you had fast food?”
Taking up the only chair paired with a simple desk, I pluck apart an onion ring. “Strange question to ask.”
Rolling her eyes, she shrugs her shoulders. “Well, I’m guessing you have a hired chef. Don’t most rich people have one of those? I’m just having a hard time picturing you, business man Charles Thornton with a greasy burger in his grip, you know?”
Does she picture me a lot? If only I could get a peek into her head.
“Two weeks ago.” Thinking about it, I shut my eyes to remember. “After a glass too many of scotch, I think I had a moment of weakness and went to taco heaven.”
God, the heartburn the next day was not worth it. Throw in a hangover, and I spent too much time suffering that weekend.
The laugh that leaves her is heavenly. Seemingly enjoying the thought of my suffering, Ellie shakes her head.
“This is going to sound silly, but I kind of expected you to be this uptight rich dude.” Her laugh softens, and she takes a cautious bite of her food. “You keep surprising me.”
Popping a piece of onion into my own mouth, I grimace at the grease. “Still the same guy. Just more gray hairs and a few agelines.” I shrug, my eyes locking onto hers. “Now, if one of us has changed, it has to be you.”
Her brows lift in surprise. Wait, does she honestly not see it?
“Good changes… I hope?” Hesitant, she hides half of her face behind her sandwich, peering over the bite marks.
It’s a futile attempt at concealment. I know I shouldn’t stare, that the hunger coiling in my gut is a tumor, growing by the day, but I’m helpless. My control over my small list of weaknesses is nonexistent.
Sustaining myself on photographs, I studied them like a man starving, tracing the frozen lines of her body on a screen, convinced I had memorized every curve, every slope. I thought I knew her as those small changes occurred over time.
Turns out, I knew nothing.
Seeing her now, breathing the same air, is a brutal, beautiful shock to the system. In person, her features are softer, her body warmer than my phone screen.
A heat, low and demanding, pools in my abdomen. My cock stirs, a traitorous pulse that threatens to give away every uncensored feeling that keeps coursing through me.
Hell, she’s bundled in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, and the mere suggestion of the body hidden beneath all that cotton is enough to undo me.
“Yeah.” The word is rough, torn from a throat gone tight. I force a swallow, my gaze drinking her in. “Good changes, Ellie. You’ve… turned into a beautiful woman.”
She takes my compliment in silence, stuffing her mouth with more bites of food. Even now, with grease clinging to her lips, I’m thinking about it. What it would be like to kiss her again.
Even if I shouldn’t, I want to. Very much so.
She hasn’t brought it up, and a part of me is thankful for it. The other part wonders if it was so bad that she simply wants to forget all about it. Maybe I should. It’s not like I’m going to have another chance to experience it again, anyway.
“I think I’m going to get cleaned up before we call it.” Crumpling her wrapper, she busies her hands as she tries to hide her pink cheeks. While she’s scrambling to collect all the trash and dust away any crumbs, I’m unable to hide my amusement.
She might’ve transformed into a sexy woman, but when she acts all bashful like this, she’s at her cutest. It’s like a breath of fresh air that a man can fill his lungs with.
Nodding my head, I work on finishing my dinner as she hunches over her suitcase, digging out her sleepwear.
Fuck. I’ve only ever seen her in daily wear. What kind of clothes does she sleep in? Maybe something silky smooth against her skin. Or, it could be cotton. Either way, it’ll be clinging to her curves, leaving little to my imagination.
My fingers tingle just thinking about what it would be like if I touched her. I won’t, of course, but imagining it is harmless.
When she slips out of the room to shower in that single bathroom downstairs, the silence that follows after her departure is deafening.
Getting all but three minutes to let out a groan, I jerk when Ellie returns looking the same as when she left. Well, maybe more flushed than before.
“Um,” she starts, hesitating. “Can I borrow you? The door… I don’t think I can get it to lock. I don’t want to risk, you know, one of the other guests strolling in.” Now she’s red from the hollow of her throat up to her nose.
Not liking the image she’s painting, I’m on my feet without thinking twice. I don’t exactly understand what I’m agreeing to until I’m staring at the bathroom door, waiting to hear the hiss of the shower start up before slipping inside.
The entrance of the lobby is empty. Can’t even put in a complaint. Not like it matters, can’t say much when my tongue is swollen double the size. My chest seizes when I hear it, the sputter of the showerhead and the hiss of the water.
Counting the seconds and listening to every shift on the other side of the door. The drag of the hooks against a metal bar, the soft sigh that leaves her once she’s under the water. Then, finally, my name is called out, urging me to come inside.
I can do this.
Instead of paying her any mind once I step inside, I busy myself with staring at the lock.
Like the rest of the inn, it could use some upgrades.
The lock seems ancient, sticking in place when I give the handle a little jiggle.
I feel like we stand a better chance at locking ourselves inside if I try to mess with that, so I leave it be before making the situation worse than it already is.
Feeling warm, I blame it on the heat of the shower. My clothes are clinging to my skin, and plucking at them does no good. With heavy feet, I turn and settle on the top of the toilet. Hunched over, I don’t miss the next sigh that leaves her lips.
The curtain doesn’t give anything away, giving my imagination full rein. All I can do is picture her on the other side, spreading suds across her bare skin. Hell, I can smell it. She’s got something with a flowery scent. Did it come with the shower, or did she bring it with her?
Smells good. So fucking good.
I won’t try to look. No matter what, I have the strength and the determination to be a good man who doesn’t take advantage of the cards dealt for us.
Ellie’s taking this chance to test me, that’s what this is. Why else would we wind ourselves up in this situation?
Maybe I should say something to Sebastian about his poor choice in having limited bathing options. This isn’t okay.
Running my fingers through my hair, a sigh escapes my lips without thought.
Ellie hears, but she perceives it as something to worry about. Without giving me a warning to prepare, that metal bar hisses above her as she pushes the curtain aside only enough to reveal a small part of her.
“Are you alright?” Her voice wavers, full of concern.
No, I’m not alright. Especially right now. I’m not okay at all.
Swallowing thickly, I feel a lump the size of my fist caught in the back of my throat.
Instead of staring at her face, I’m drinking in every inch of exposed skin that shall allow me to see that isn’t hidden behind the shower curtain.
I can see the white suds clinging to her throat and trace the ones that seep toward a place the curtain hides.
“You must be thinking how silly this is.” Clutching the curtain, her face pouts, and I can already tell she’s already wording her apology in her head.
I can’t have her saying sorry over and over again. Not when I’m the one committing horrible crimes in my head.
“That’s not what I’m thinking,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Not even close.”
Setting myself up for failure, I’m not surprised when she asks what is going on in my head. With more than enough of an opportunity to tell a lie, I can’t find it in me to say anything but the truth.
“I want to join you.” Meeting her surprised gaze, I grimace. “That’s what I’m thinking about.”
I expect a look of regret to take over her expression, for her eyes to avoid mine, but that’s not what happens. Her lips part, and I can see it in her eyes. The same daze behind her stare after I kissed her.
Then, I hallucinate her nod. It must be the hot air making my eyes play tricks on me. My ears too, when she lets out a sigh of impatience.
“Well?” Huffing out her embarrassment, she dips back behind the curtain.
What?
I’m on my feet without a second thought. My breathing shifts, growing louder. Loud enough to drown out all the dos and don’ts with this woman. My lust is overpowering my disciplined thoughts.
My shirt stretches as I yank on it, scowling as it catches on my body. Only slowing me down, just like the rest of my outfit, I’m fighting to tear myself free.
A soft laugh slips out with the steam. She can hear my struggle. Can she sense my impatience, too? Does she even have a clue what I want to do to her? No, she couldn’t possibly. If she did, she wouldn’t have invited me to join her.
Finally, I’m free. My cock, swollen and hot, presses against my thigh. In a matter of seconds, I’m going to be fully exposed, and there’s going to be no room left over to question how I feel about her.
So worried about what she’ll think about when she sees me, I don’t consider preparing myself for seeing her.
A fatal mistake on my part, I come to soon find out.