Chapter 51
MYLES
“Their family is amazing, aren’t they?” Rosa spins the cardboard sleeve around her to-go cup of tea, and I don’t need to clarify to know that she’s talking about Charlie and Gemma’s family.
The two of us are sitting opposite each other at a small outdoor table at the Starbucks where Charlie and Gemma had parked us with the instructions to wait here until they come back for us. It’s clear that Charlie’s bossiness is a trait his cousin shares with him.
What exactly the two of them are up to that excludes Rosa and me, I have no idea, but I can’t deny that I’m pretty damn curious.
The nice thing is though, I don’t mind being ditched here with Rosa.
She’s calm and quiet, but not in a shy or difficult to talk to way.
Definitely the opposite of Gemma’s all over the place personality.
And, unlike Gemma, who I have to admit still kind of scares me a little, despite the fact that she’s apparently forgiven me for my long list of what she’s dubbed my crimes, Rosa makes me feel completely at ease.
“They really are.” I can’t keep the smile off my face as I set my drink down on the table. “Charlie and Gemma are really lucky.”
She nods, a serious, heavy expression crossing her face. “They’re so lucky.”
Something about the way she says it strikes a bit too close to home. “I take it your family’s not exactly the same?”
“You could say that.” The smile she shoots me is rueful. “My parents pretty much gave me the choice between shoving myself right back in the closet when I came out as trans when I was sixteen, or counting myself out of the family.”
“Fuck,” I shake my head at her, trying to rein in the long, furious litany of responses vying to burst out of me. “That’s…” I shake my head again. “Fuck.”
“That just about sums it up.” She sighs, fiddling with the plastic lid of her drink.
“They reached out to me. Last year. They didn’t necessarily say they were sorry, but I don’t think they’re really able to.
I talk to them sometimes. They even went so far as to say they were happy for me when I told them about Gemma. ”
My surprise has got to register on my face, because she laughs.
“I know. I was pretty much speechless. I’d spent all this time hyping myself up, telling myself that it didn’t matter if they wrote me off all over again when I told them, but I don’t have time for people in my life that I have to keep the things that make me happy from.
That if they didn’t like it, they could go fuck themselves, so I wasn’t really sure what to say when their response was the opposite.
“Look, Myles.” She meets my eyes with a steady look that none the less manages to convey the sudden reticence that’s come over her face for the first time in our conversation.
“I know we don’t know each other well, and I don’t want to overstep, but Gemma told me some of the shit that happened with your dad.
I’m sorry he didn’t live long enough to tell you he was sorry, if he ever did get around to feeling it, but my gut tells me he did, in his own way.
Whatever that was. You don’t leave a house to someone you’ve written out of your heart.
“I just wanted to say that, for whatever it’s worth. And I wanted to tell you, I know our two situations aren’t the same, but if you ever want someone to commiserate about shitty families with, I’m here for it.”
I’m mid-hug with Rosa when an amused, “Aww, look at the two of them, babe,” makes me turn to see Charlie and Gemma, arm in arm, standing beside my abandoned chair.
The weird dichotomy of similarity and difference between the two of them, especially because they’ve both got their heads tilted identically to the side while each wearing completely distinct expressions is a mindfuck.
I can see why some people think they’re twins, even though to me, they’re two of the most drastically different people I’ve ever met.
In contrast to Gemma’s entertained reaction, Charlie looks so happy to see Rosa and me bonding that he might tear up at any second.
Seeing him looking like that, knowing that it’s because he cares so damn much that I feel at home and like a part of his family, is enough to make my eyes sting a little too, so I distract myself by asking, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yep.” He grins at me, and something about his smile and the flash of his eyes as he tightens his grip on the non-descript, medium-sized bag he’s carrying makes me want to know more than ever what exactly he’s up to.
“Is it horrible that, even though I totally loved having you there with my family, that was the longest weekend of my life?” Charlie sighs as he flicks on his turn signal to merge off the highway and onto the country road that will finally bring us back to Riverside.
“Only if it’s horrible that I agree with you,” I grin at him.
The whole drive, the tension between us has been electric.
I don’t think we’ve stopped touching each other once.
The backs of my knuckles running up and down his side, first outside his shirt, then, when I couldn’t help myself, up under it; over the silky warmth of his soft skin.
My hand on his thigh as I’ve drunk in the slight flex of his muscles whenever he’s moved his foot on the break or the gas.
His fingers stroking light patterns over the back of my hand and up my wrist. The lingering glances at each other that I swear I can feel every bit as much as his actual touch.
This weekend with his family may have been everything I didn’t know I’d needed, but I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t spent so much more of it than can possibly be appropriate thinking about what I’d told Charlie I wanted on Thursday. Not to mention the fact that he wants it too.
Those thoughts had turned the last two nights and two days into what’s got to be the world’s longest, slowest edging session. Especially this morning, when we’d woken up with me completely on top of Charlie, apparently in the process of slipping my hand down those tempting pajama bottoms of his.
I think we’d both been ready to just say fuck it and give into the inevitable when, just on the other side of the wall, we’d heard the distinct sound of footsteps.
Honestly, even with the disappointingly solo jerk off session I’d given into in the shower afterward, I’ve been half hard pretty much all day.
The time it takes before Charlie’s pulling the car into his driveway lasts forever. My one consolation is that I know he’s feeling it every bit as much as I am, if the way he keeps shifting around in his seat and the heated looks he keeps shooting me mean anything.
“Remind me to never again sign up for two nights of sharing a bed with you without being able to have you.” I let my head fall back against the seat, rolling it to the side to find Charlie already watching me. Even through the dusky evening light, there’s no mistaking the thirst in his eyes.
“What if it’s me having you?” He reaches down, unclicking his seatbelt, and then the next moment, he’s climbing over the center console and into my lap.
How he manages it in such a tight space with his long legs, I don’t have a clue, but fuck, I love whatever kind of yoga magic’s made him bendy enough to pull it off.
And fuck, the intent behind what he’s just said…
My hands are on his ass and his mouth’s on mine before I have a chance to tell him that hell yes, it can be him having his way with me.
From the dark glint in his eyes though, he already knows it. God, I think maybe he knows that I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
Our kiss is scorching and deep, and we’re both breathless by the time he pulls away. The sun must have slipped behind the mountains while we were kissing. All I can see of Charlie now is his silhouette above me.
“Are you going to fuck me, Charlie?”
His hands flex convulsively at my sides as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You still want me to?”
He’s asked it like a question he already knows the answer to, and even though I can’t see it clearly, I can hear the smugness in his smile.
“It’s all I can think about.”
The moan he lets out at my raw honesty blazes through me, and before I even realize I’m moving, my hands are tangled in his hair, dragging him down for another kiss.
It’s messy and fierce and so greedy that, after a minute, I have to push him away to pull in gasping breaths to get my head to stop spinning.
“Inside.” My dick throbs and leaks at the way he pants out the word. “Now.”
“I have to—” Even through my desperate arousal, my cheeks heat as I trail off, not wanting to spoil things by bringing up unsexy conversations about prepping; something I’ve made myself a (purely second hand and hypothetical) expert on through online reading over the last few days.
“I know, baby.” Charlie drops a sweet, slow kiss to my lips, stroking his fingers through my hair like he knows I’m more than a little embarrassed by the topic.
“You take as long as you need, and I’ll be waiting for you.
” He gives his hips a smooth roll against me, letting me feel the hard press of his erection against my abs.
I’m so keyed up and caught between excitement and arousal and nerves by the time I’m wrapping a towel around my waist and stepping out of Charlie’s shower, I don’t even bother to really dry off. Just push my wet curls back from my forehead, suck in a breath, and pull open the bathroom door.
Charlie’s room’s just across the short hallway, and his door’s already open a crack.
There’s a warm, flickering light coming through the opening, and when I push the door the rest of the way open, all I can do is stare.
Around the room, Charlie’s lit candles—a few on the dresser, a couple on the windowsill, one on the nightstand.
But that’s not what I’m staring at.
The only thing I can see is him, standing between the door and the bed.
Waiting for me.
The warm, low light makes the gold shimmer dusted over his eyelids and along his cheekbones glisten as he runs his eyes down my bare chest before lifting them to meet mine again.
His lips are soft and pink and full, and when he smiles, I swear I can already taste a hint of strawberry on my tongue just looking at them.
“I know candles are kind of cheesy, but I wanted you to feel relaxed and—”
“Nothing about this is cheesy.” I shake my head, trying to process the overwhelming mix of almost painfully deep love and feral desire I feel for the beautiful man standing in front of me. “It’s perfect.”
You’re perfect.
He takes a step toward me, and my eyes follow him greedily as my heart hammers against my ribs. “Fuck, Charlie, what are you wearing?”
There’s not a single trace of shyness or hesitation in him this time as a slow smile spreads across his face. It’s so full of heat and promise that just the sight of it has my breath catching in my chest.
While I stare, completely mesmerized, Charlie does a slow spin, showing off the pale green, silky robe he’s wearing.
Just like those damn pajamas of his, the way it clings to his body is sinful, and fuck it’s short.
So short, it barely covers his ass where it falls, teasing against the very tops of his smooth, toned thighs.
When he comes back around to face me again, I can see the outline of his dick tenting the front.
“Is this what you bought today?” I reach out, completely helpless against the deep groan that breaks from me as my hands skim over the silky material, taking in the firmness and warmth of his body beneath it
“And what’s under it.”
Fuuck.
The look on his face is a clear invitation. One he’s not going to catch me wasting any time taking him up on.
My hands shake with anticipation as I tug at the tie of his robe, and when the material falls open, my breath punches out of me with a ragged sound. “Fucking god, Charlie.”
It’s not just panties this time.
Except the panties— Oh, fuck, those panties— Pale green lace the exact same color as his robe, even smaller and thinner than the ones he wore last time. Sheer enough that I can see the flushed head of his cock right through them.
He’s paired them with a matching bralette. More sheer, pale green with the hard pink buds of his nipples peeking through the material, his slimly defined pecs cupped by the lacy edge—
I want to tell him that I’ve literally never seen or even imagined anything hotter in all my life, but all that comes out is some kind of feral, needy noise, and then I’m shoving him back, tackling him down onto the bed as he lets out a startled huff of breath that turns into a moan as my lips close over the sweet softness of the skin at the base of his throat.
Somewhere along the way, my towel comes loose, and when I move my way up his body to pin my knees on either side of his thighs, my naked dick meets the satin-smoothness of his robe where it’s fallen over his stomach. Holy shit, the feel of it—
My mouth collides with his as I rut against him, unable to get enough of the sensation. I can feel the dampness of my precum on the silky material, and yeah, maybe I should feel bad about making a mess of it, but I don’t. I love it. Charlie and his sexy, sexy little robe are mine.
When my hands slip around under him to cup his ass, I’m met with the smoothness of his bare skin, not the lace of his panties.
Not until I move higher do I find the lace I’d expected, and the realization that he’s wearing a thong has me moaning as my fingers follow the thin strip of material to where it disappears between his cheeks.
“You’re going to make me want to change my mind and fuck you instead,” I practically growl against his lips as my fingers dip in to trace along his crease.
“What if I promise to wear it for you again? I could leave it on—”
“Yes.”
I swallow up the rest of his words, nodding my agreement and fucking my tongue into his mouth as I push aside the lacy material to brush my fingertips over his hole.
He lets out a quiet whimper, and my body lights and tingles, half with the pleasure of knowing how I affect him, half with the burning need to know what it feels like when he touches me like that.
And suddenly, much as I know I want to fuck him in that thong soon, I know that right now, I have to have him inside me.
With a gasp, I pull away from his lips, rolling us so that now he’s on top of me. “Please, Charlie—” I fumble for one of his hands, catching it in mine and dragging it down and pressing his palm against the curve of my ass.
A blazing heat fills his eyes as he caresses my skin. My breath hitches when his fingers slip down into my crease, and that heat in his eyes flares hotter with the shuddering breath he lets out as I arch into his touch.
God, I didn’t even mean to move. All I know is my body wants this.
I want this.
So fucking badly.