21. Ana
21
Ana
T he media hounded me and Charlie as we left our cottage at the Chateau Marmont, the flashes of cameras relentless against the tinted windows of the black car. With everything that happened at the Grammys, we were in every headline. Every gossip site had an opinion, every talk show dissected our relationship. My team didn’t know what to do with it. My publicist had been clear: Ignore it. Don’t address it.
I agreed. What could I possibly say that hadn’t already been shown? The message was clear: Charlie and I were together, in love.
But my chest felt tight, the pressure of the past few days mounting. The chaos didn’t seem to touch Charlie; he embraced it with ease, his confidence unwavering. But for me, it was like a storm I couldn’t escape, the winds whipping faster with every headline and whispered judgment.
“You okay?” Charlie asked softly, his hand resting on mine as the car sped towards Sloane and Callan’s house.
We planned to have lunch before Charlie and I headed back to New York, but Charlie suddenly claimed he had a “meeting.” I didn’t question him; he was still tense about the conversation Sloane and I had the other day, and I didn’t even want to know what he was thinking about Callan anymore.
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Are you?”
“I’m great,” he replied, his grin wide and genuine. “As long as you are.”
I nodded, though my stomach churned. I couldn’t shake the anxiety lingering from my last conversation with Sloane. The way we had left things didn’t sit right with me and I wasn’t sure how today would unfold.
When we arrived, Charlie leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Text me when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be close.”
“Okay, baby,” I replied, feigning confidence as anxiety swarmed in my chest. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
I entered the gate code at the private entrance to Callan and Sloane’s Spanish-style 1920s renovated home in Hancock Park. Sloane stood waiting for me at the door, her smile warm but tinged with hesitation. The unease between us lingered, faint but present. I hated when things were like this—thankfully, it wasn’t often.
“Hi, mama,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug.
“ Hola, mi nina ,” I said, squeezing her back.
She held on a little longer. “I hate how we left things last time. I’m sorry for coming at you like that,” she said as she let go.
I took her hands, shaking my head gently. “Don’t be sorry, baby,” I said, though I could sense the conversation wasn’t over.
We walked into the bright living room, sunlight streaming through the windows. Sloane’s green thumb was clearly apparent in her space, with plants hanging and potted in every corner.
“You said I had a lot of plants,” I teased, glancing around. “Look at you—you’ve doubled the number since the last time I was here.”
Sloane laughed, her tension softening for a moment. “There’s a great nursery down the street. I can’t help myself,” she replied.
Callan appeared from the dining room beside the kitchen, giving me a cautious smile. “Hey, Ana.”
“Hey. Food smells great. You’re cooking?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Trying to,” Callan replied with a laugh, glancing at Sloane as he wrapped his arm around her. “I mean, we kinda did it together.”
“It’s all ready,” Sloane said, glancing towards the kitchen. “We can eat in there,” she suggested to Callan.
He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
I followed them into the kitchen and to the small round table beside the island, where bowls of sautéed vegetables, avocado, tortillas, and tofu scramble were laid out.
“Tofu tacos,” Sloane announced brightly as she sat down. “A staple around here.”
I smiled but I sighed as I took my seat, the weight of the inevitable conversation pressing against my chest. The small talk was light; we talked about the nursery Sloane mentioned, her classes, little projects around the house, wedding planning. But I could feel the lingering tension beneath it all.
When there was a momentary pause between conversation, Callan broke the silence. “How’s Charlie?” he asked, his tone casual but tainted with bitterness.
“He’s good,” I said, nodding as I avoided his gaze. “He’s at a meeting right now. He’s sorry he couldn’t make it.”
Callan gave a stifled laugh. “Yeah, sure.”
“What?” I snapped.
Sloane and Callan exchanged a look before Sloane finally spoke. “We’re just a little worried, Mom. Like I said…he’s really intense.”
“Intense?” Callan interjected. “That’s one way to describe him.”
My irritation flared. “I don’t understand why you two are having such a hard time accepting this. Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m with someone who clearly loves me and isn’t afraid to show it? Shouldn’t my happiness matter?” My voice grew louder. “So what if he’s intense? So what if he’s passionate and has made mistakes in his past? I think you know a thing or two about that, Callan,” I snapped, the words cutting before I could stop them.
Callan’s jaw tightened as he looked down at his plate, his silence heavy.
“Mom,” Sloane said, her tone sharp, almost scolding.
I exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, Callan. I just…”
I trailed off, the regret settling in my chest. Deep down, I knew they were right to be worried. I had seen the red flags since the beginning and had chosen to ignore them. I continued to ignore them because I loved him. I truly was happy with Charlie, even if it felt like I was losing a part of myself—someone I wasn’t sure I liked but was learning to live with.
“You’re right, Mom,” Sloane said softly. “We’ve all made our mistakes. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing, but…” She hesitated. “Just be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“That’s not going to happen, Sloane,” I replied firmly, though even I knew it wasn’t true. Hurt seemed inevitable for both Charlie and me, but it didn’t matter—not right now.
Callan pushed his chair back abruptly, standing. “I need to use the restroom,” he said quietly before he left the room.
I tilted my head toward Sloane, exasperated. “? Qué cono ?” I asked under my breath.
Sloane shook her head with a small sigh, her expression tired. “I can’t change his mind about him, Mom. I’m sure he’ll come around, though,” she said with a shrug.
I bit my lower lip, nodding. The conversation was pressing too heavily on me and I desperately wanted to move past it. “Show me all your new plants.”
Sloane’s face lit up at the change in subject and she led me to the living room, pointing out her latest additions with enthusiasm. Thirty minutes later, after discussing plant care tips and laughing about her growing “jungle,” Callan still hadn’t returned. His absence hung in the back of my mind but I decided not to press it.
When it was time to leave, Charlie texted that he was waiting in the car. I gave Sloane a tight squeeze at the door. “ Te amo , baby,” I said softly.
“I love you too, Mom,” she replied warmly.
In the car, I found Charlie scrolling through his phone. He glanced up with a grin. “Ready?”
I nodded, settling into the seat as the car pulled away.
We didn’t talk much during the drive to LAX. Charlie held onto my leg possessively, as if he needed to declare me as his, even when no one was looking. I stared out the window, letting the city blur past while my thoughts churned. There was no escaping the weight of the conversation with Sloane and Callan or the lingering doubts it stirred. But for now, I pushed it aside. All that mattered was getting back to New York and holding onto the fragile calm Charlie and I had managed to find amidst the chaos. The chaos we created.
* * *
Getting on our flight, and the actual journey itself, was uneventful. But once we landed at JFK, the atmosphere shifted. My team had hired extra security detail in response to the heightened media attention. As we exited through a side door to the waiting car, paparazzi swarmed us, cameras flashing relentlessly. Charlie held onto me tightly as he led me into the car.
Miles was already in the driver’s seat with another guard in the passenger seat. I caught the flicker of irritation in Charlie’s expression when he saw Miles, though he didn’t say anything. I knew he wasn’t thrilled about the added security, but our safety came first.
The car ride was quiet, Charlie holding onto my thigh as always, and I avoided my phone as I stared out at the beautiful New York City skyline. Once we arrived at my building, the elevator ride felt even more stifling. Miles and the extra guard stood silently beside us, their presence heavy in the small space. Charlie didn’t say a word to either of them, but his body language spoke volumes—the way his fingers tightened around mine, the subtle clench of his jaw.
When the elevator dinged to signal our floor, Charlie finally broke his silence.
“See you boys later. I’ve got it from here, thanks,” he said cheerfully, but the sarcasm in his tone was unmistakable.
Miles’ eyes flicked to mine, questioning, and I nodded softly in response. Charlie tugged on my hand, pulling me out of the elevator before they could say anything else.
As the doors slid shut behind us, I glanced at him. His jaw was still tight, his grip on my hand unyielding. “They’re just doing their job,” I said gently, though I knew it wouldn’t change how he felt.
He exhaled sharply. “I know,” he muttered, but the tension in his body didn’t ease.
I paused in front of the door, keys in hand, tilting my head at him. “What’s bothering you, baby?” I asked softly, keeping my tone gentle; I knew he needed that from me right now.
He hesitated, his eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting mine again. “You’re quiet,” he admitted quietly. “You barely spoke on the plane. I feel like…like you’re going to leave, and I’m just…I’m upset. I’m upset at myself for everything I’ve done.” His voice broke slightly and I saw tears forming in his eyes.
My chest tightened, guilt washing over me. I shook my head slowly, hating the way his insecurities took hold of him. I could feel the weight of Sloane and Callan’s disapproval pressing on both of us and I knew it was getting to him. But the truth was, no matter my own doubts, I’d never walk away from him. I was sure of that, even if he couldn’t see it.
I reached up, placing my hand on his cheek, my thumb brushing softly over his lower lip. His eyes stayed on me, filled with pain that made my heart ache.
A thought flickered through my mind briefly, without warning. His vulnerability had a way of disarming me, stripping away my frustrations with him—frustrations I hadn’t fully let go of since Sarah, since even before that. Was this raw honesty a perfectly planned distraction, or was it entirely genuine? Maybe it was both.
But as I looked at him, I knew it didn’t matter. Whatever his reasons, his pain was real and I couldn’t stand to see it.
“Charlie,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere. You have to believe that.”
His lips trembled slightly as he closed his eyes, leaning into my hand. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, pulling me close to him.
“You won’t,” I promised. “I’m here. I’m always here.”
His eyes opened and he smiled at me, my words of reassurance seeming to ease him. “I just want to lay in bed and hold you. Can we do that?”
I exhaled, a smile creeping on my lips. “That sounds perfect.”
After stripping down and pressing our naked bodies together, Charlie slipped his hand between my legs, his touch igniting a fire in me.
“I really did just want to hold you,” he huffed into my neck, swirling his finger against my clit. “But I can’t resist you, mi diosa. ”
I moaned as my fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth found my nipple.
“Please,” he breathed. “Please just let me explore every part of you.”
I smiled, tugging his hair harder. “You don’t always have to ask, baby. Take me any way you want me.”
His lips moved to my other nipple, his finger circling faster. “ Any way?” he murmured, his tone deepening.
I hesitated for just a moment as he teased my nipple with his teeth, a flicker of curiosity and anticipation coursing through me. When I looked down, his eyes met mine through his lashes, his sly smile accentuated by the dimples that never failed to make my heart leap.
“Any way,” I repeated, out of breath from my building orgasm.
“Fuck, Ana…I don’t know if you want to unleash that part of me,” he warned.
Between the biting and the intensity of his need to mark me, my curiosity outweighed any hesitation.
“Show me what you’ve got, my good boy,” I murmured. “Take what you need from me, and I’ll give you more. I’ll fuck you the way I know you’ve been dying to get fucked.”
His lips curved into a mischievous grin against my skin, his eyebrows raising in playful defiance. “Just stop me if it’s too much.”
In one swift motion, Charlie grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him as he knelt on the bed. The sight of his tattooed, muscular arms flexing as he positioned my body made my heart race. I couldn’t tear my gaze away as he took his hard cock in his hand, stroking it slowly.
“I’m going to pull out my knife again, Ana. Don’t be afraid.”
The darkness in his eyes and the low, gravelly tone of his voice sent a spark of fear through me. But I realized that I craved it. I wanted it all, everything he had to give, because it was from him .
He slid off the bed, retrieving his pocket knife and retracting the blade with ease. My heart furiously pounded as I watched him, the mix of thrill and fear blurring together.
He gripped my thighs, spreading me open as he slid down to bury his face between them. His tongue flicked over my clit, his movements overwhelming my already sensitive nerves. Two fingers slipped inside me while his hand with the blade rested firmly on my thigh. Just as my orgasm built to a breaking point, I felt the blade press into my skin. The sharp sting made me wince, but the pain bled into pleasure and I moaned his name loudly.
Charlie’s tongue didn’t falter. Even as the warm trickle of blood slipped down my thigh, he kept working me unrelentingly. I looked down to see his hand slick with my blood, gripping the blade as another orgasm shattered through me. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I rode the waves of pleasure, my body trembling with the aftershocks.
When he finally lifted his mouth from me, he proudly grinned. Without a word, he dragged the blade across my thigh again, this time deeper. I screamed, my cry a mix of pain and ecstasy as I stared down at him. His grin deepened and he smeared the blood with his hand, painting a streak over his chest above his heart.
“I have so many dark thoughts, mi diosa, ” he murmured, his voice soft and pained. “But I’m not afraid of them with you. You let me be myself. You love me, flaws and all. Maybe even because of them.” His hand returned to my thigh, squeezing firmly, sending another jolt through me.
I couldn’t explain why the sight of him marked with my blood sent a terrifying, dark desire within me.
“Yes, baby. I love you,” I whispered, leaning up on my elbows. “All of you.”
He leaned down, his fingers pressing hard against my thigh as the blood trickled down. “I want to take you in ways no one else ever has,” he said, brushing his lips over mine, his cock teasing at my entrance. “And I want you to take from me what no one else ever could.”
“Yes, Charlie,” I breathed, lifting my hips to meet him. “Take everything. Give me everything.”
He pushed into me slowly, his blood-slicked hand rising to his lips as he tasted it. Goosebumps flooded my skin, the thrill of his every move consuming me.
“Taste me, mi diosa, ” he growled, lifting his body slightly. He brought the blade to the side of his forearm, slicing down in a clean line. Blood pooled and trickled as he pressed the wound to my lips. Without hesitation, I darted my tongue out, desperate to take him in.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips snapping forward, thrusting harder and faster as the metallic taste filled my mouth. “Ana, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he moaned into my neck, his tongue tracing my skin before his teeth grazed my shoulder. “I want to crawl inside you. I want to be a part of you.”
As his teeth sank into my shoulder, my orgasm tore through me and I cried out, my vision blurring with tears as pleasure overwhelmed me.
“Fuck!” Charlie’s pace quickened, his moans turning guttural as he pounded into me, his movements slowing only when he finally shuddered with release. His weight collapsed over me, his breath ragged and uneven.
The only sound in the room was our shaky breaths. As the pleasure faded, tears streamed down my cheeks as I grappled with so many overwhelming emotions. I loved him so deeply it scared me. His obsession, our shared obsession, burned too brightly, too dangerously. What lengths would he go to for me? What was he capable of? What was I capable of?
“Ana,” he whispered, lifting his head to meet my gaze.
I stared down at him, his lips still stained with my blood. “Charlie,” I said softly.
“Do you still love me?” he asked hesitantly, the vulnerability clear in his eyes.
I let the tears flow freely and nodded. “More than ever.”