20. Charlie
20
Charlie
Jasper and I get the pork in the pan and bring it over to where Bea and Naomi are chopping the vegetables. And by “Jasper and I,” I mean he put the pork on the pan while peppering me with questions about last night.
Not asking for details...just more like “what the fuck is going on?” questions.
“What have y’all been talking about?” Naomi asks us, a smug look on her face. Bea elbows her.
“Oh, you know, this and that,” Jasper says, equally smug. “And you?”
Okay, so they both know that Bea and I hooked up. But they don’t know that the other knows.
And Bea doesn’t know that Jasper knows.
Oy vey.
“Just a sisterly chat.” Naomi winks at me.
“Sisterly chat,” Jasper echoes. “And our manly men talk.”
Manly men. I run a hand down my face.
When I can see again, Naomi and Jasper are glaring at each other.
“What were you two talking about?” she demands.
“Nothing I can tell you,” he counters.
“I bet it was boring,” Naomi says.
A headache is building. I know Jasper and Naomi love each other, but they bicker like siblings. Bea rubs her temples.
“Are you two actually fighting over our secret?” I ask.
They both gasp and speak at the same time.
“He knows?”
“She knows?”
Followed quickly by Bea’s, “Jasper knows?”
“Y’all.” I press my palms together, begging. “Be cool, okay?”
“When did Jasper find out?” Bea asks.
“You were asleep.”
The back door opens and Mom flounces in. The four of us break apart like billiard balls. “Helloooo!” She raises an empty glass. “Out of wine. I think I’ll just grab a whole bottle. Charlie, the firepit was a wonderful idea.” Mom brushes past me, smelling of smoke with a hint of tannins, and opens the fridge. “How’s it going in here?”
“Fine,” the four of us say in unison.
The fridge door falls closed and Mom peers at the pan. The tenderloin stands alone, the rest of the meal in various stages of preparedness. “What time do you think we’ll eat?”
Jasper glances at the fridge and does math. “A little late. Sorry. I have untrained sous chefs, you know.”
“You’re the sous chef,” Naomi grumbles.
Mom kisses her cheek. “Better grab some snacks, then.” She reopens the fridge and roots around, bottle of wine under her arm, until she finds the hummus. She swipes a box of crackers off the counter on her way out. “Shout when it’s ready!”
The three of us vote Jasper off the island and banish him back to the stool. We focus on getting the job done, and soon the tenderloin and accouterments are in the oven. Then we turn to the stove to make six side dishes.
God it takes a lot of food to feed eleven people.
Somehow, between stirring pots and washing dishes, Bea and I have a few minutes alone. And I’m not risking tonight.
I sidle up behind Bea at the stove and kiss the back of her neck. Her inhale is sharp and surprised.
“Come to bed with me tonight.”
She pauses, the spoon she was stirring with still halfway in the simmering water. “Charlie...”
She doesn’t finish the thought, but her tone makes me think it wasn’t going to be yes, Charlie, I’ll come to your bed and we can give each other orgasms all night long.
Instead I kiss lower, trailing my lips down to her shoulder and nipping gently. She leans against me and I grip her hips with my hands.
“Let me make you feel good,” I whisper. “Let me show you how amazing we are together.”
She laughs, but it’s almost more of an exhale than humor. “I remember how good we were together.”
I press my nose into the soft space under her ear. “No. You remember how good we were . Let me show you how good we are .”
Right now, I don’t have enough money or time. But it’s so close I can taste it, and I will do whatever I can if Bea would give me another chance. It’s a miracle that I’m standing in this kitchen with her and she’s thinking about it.
Footsteps approach, and Bea glances at me over her shoulder as I step away. “Okay,” she says, just as Jasper comes around the corner.
After dinner, we pick another movie— How the Grinch Stole Christmas —and resume our places in the basement. Just as Jim Carrey accepts his position as Holiday Cheermeister, Arlo calls.
Perfect timing. I excuse myself and retreat upstairs.
I spend fifteen minutes on the phone, catching up with him and dillydallying until, maybe, no one will notice I don’t come back.
The movie’s still playing when I hang up with him, but I don’t go back downstairs. I climb up to my room instead, and when I open the door, Bea is lying on my bed.
My heart blooms.
The lamp on the bedside is on and she’s still dressed.
I smile at her, close the door behind me, and crawl up her body. Bea smiles back, those two dimples deepening. I put my hands on either side of her face, stroke her cheeks with my thumbs.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hey,” I say. “Done grinching around downstairs?”
She laughs and I kiss her. It’s slow and sweet, and I lay my body over hers.
I move my lips down her face, kissing a dimple before nipping down her neck. Bea runs her hands through my hair, pressing my face further into her skin.
Piece by piece, we undress each other. Under her sweatshirt is a tank top, and then a cotton bra that I pull over her head. Bea runs her hands over my chest, exploring my chest hair, pinches a nipple, and touches the tips of her fingers to where she bit me yesterday. The mark is still there, just light bruising with no broken skin.
Perfect.
I roll to the side and Bea follows. I kiss her slowly, running the back of my hands over her breasts and belly. Her areolas are so pale, I wouldn’t be able to tell where they start except that the skin gets even softer around her nipples. I stroke them with my thumb while Bea moans, breaking our kiss.
Bea gets louder and she whines. I reward her by reaching down into her pajama pants and panties, and finding her clit with my fingers.
“Charlie,” Bea snaps and grabs my wrist.
“What?” I tease her, the words against her lips.
“Can you please fuck me now?”
“I have to make sure you’re ready for me.” My fingers twitch, just barely brushing her clit.
“I’m ready,” she insists. “Charlie, I want you.”
“Prove it. Let go.”
She releases my wrist, and I press two fingers against her clit and slide them down and into her pussy. She gasps and squirms. I pump my hand and circle her clit with my thumb.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispers.
“So good. You’re so beautiful like this.”
“Charlie. Charlie,” she chants. “Oh god.”
“It’s going to be so good, isn’t it? I’m going to make you come, and then I’m going to fuck you all night. I’m going to take care of you, give you everything you need.”
Her eyes meet mine, half-lidded and sex-drugged. “Charlie. Can you...can you hold my throat?”
Fuck yes. I shift up, keeping my fingers inside her but sitting up enough to get my weight off my arm. My knees straddle one of her legs, and my hand is still pumping into her.
“Tap me twice to stop, okay? I’m going to be gentle though.”
She nods, and I set my hand on her throat, my thumb just at her pulse point and my fingers wrapped around the other side. I’m not applying much pressure, just enough so she can feel me.
So that she’s pinned beneath me.
She looks up at me, complete trust in her eyes. I would never hurt her, I would do anything for her, and that will never change.
This is what it’s like to love someone for most of your life.
I can feel her getting close.
“I’ve got you, beautiful,” I tell her. “Come for me.”
Bea comes, back bowing and her throat pressing up against my hand. Her body clenches around my fingers but I keep pumping, telling her how gorgeous she is and how good she feels.
After a few shudders, her whole body goes bowstring tight again, her pussy fluttering. Her eyes roll back and she bites her lip, hard. I can’t wait for those teeth to be biting down on me.
God, it feels like a dream to be here.
Finally, Bea twists away from me. “Okay, okay.” There’s laughter in her voice, and I carefully slip my fingers out and let her throat go.
Bea breathes hard for a few moments, her rib cage rising and falling, before she rolls her head over to look at me. She reaches down to where I’m still straddling her and grips my hard cock beneath my boxer briefs.
“Please.”