Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
Charlie
“ F eel good to be back home, boss?” Tommy calls from behind me.
I’ve been standing at the front door, hands on my hips as I watch the movers get ready to unload their truck. There’s not much to see, but I’m glad to watch. We’ve been on the road, traveling the state and campaigning, and I finally have some time to tend to matters at home. A little break feels good.
“What gave me away?” I ask with a grin as he comes to a stop behind me.
“Hazardin’ a guess.” Tommy shrugs and hands me a stack of mail. “Maid says this is what’s left over from the junk.”
“Oh yeah? Not too bad for a month.” I start to appraise the thick bundle of letters when a high-pitched yelp rings through the air, followed by a crash. Tommy and I look toward the sound and see Lillian starting to fuss over a box of spilled papers, books, and other little knickknacks. From the looks of it, she must have caught herself on the car door on her way out.
We watch silently as Lillian scrambles to put the things back in the box. She shoots me a glance, her face red, and scuttles across the pavement. Her hair dangles in two braids like the first time we met, but this time, she’s wearing a pair of white pants that I bought for her. The red tube top, though, she got that from somewhere else, and I don’t think she’s wearing a bra.
Luckily for Lillian, I’m in a pretty good mood. I make a note to talk to her about that later as the driver gets out of the car and makes a weak effort to help her. For some reason, he hesitates, looking more like he’d rather avoid contact with her if he can help it. Lillian blushes deeper and collects her things faster.
“What’s up with that?” Tommy asks.
“I don’t know. I keep meaning to ask the driver what he has against Lillian.”
“You don’t think something funny is going on?”
“No,” I answer lightly as the driver picks up a single piece of paper and fiddles with it. “They’re uncomfortable around each other. The first time we were in the car together, she was disappointed to see him again. So I made him her personal driver.” I chuckle and turn away, returning my attention back to the mail. “Show her to her room.”
“Yes, boss.”
I head inside, walking toward my office, and absently flip through the letters.
Lillian is moving in today, and it’s about time. The public is hungry to see more of her. They keep asking about when she’ll join me on the trail. We plan to debut her after she’s settled in with me and we can keep tabs on her activities. Now that she’s mine, I’ll need to set her schedule.
Especially if she’s prone to picking fights with wild dogs.
From how she stood protectively in front of her sister, I knew she was defending the younger girl. I don’t fault her for that. But the wife of Charlie Carter needs more tact than that. And where did that fighting spirit come from, anyway? It never rears its stony face when I’m pawing at her.
That’s something I’ve been thinking about on the trail.
When Lillian was standing toe to toe with Lou, every part of her was screaming no. So her defenses only break down when she allows them to. However much I push her, we’ll only go as far as she’s willing.
She won’t turn into a mindless slave. There’s a backbone in that girl, even if she doesn’t always choose to acknowledge it. No matter how much I push, she pushes back in her own way. On the road, I’ve been looking forward to seeing how much she can take. What will be the last straw? Will there even be one?
It’s exciting.
She’s exciting.
I’m grinning to myself as I notice a greeting card sticking out awkwardly in the middle of the mail pile. I pull it out and frown. It looks like the sender tried to disguise their handwriting—my address is written in block letters. There’s no return address. I set the other letters aside and open the envelope carefully. Inside is a card, as the shape suggested. A gold glittery bottle of champagne decorates its cover, and thin, looping letters read, “Congratulations! You picked a keeper!” There’s nothing else in the envelope, and written in the card in the same block letters is a message:
I KNOW YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S DIRTY LITTLE SECRET.
DROP OUT OF THE RUNNING, OR SHE GOES TO PRISON.
My blood runs cold.
I read the message a few more times. It doesn’t make sense. But my mind snaps into action.
Who would try to blackmail me? A rival?
If I abandoned the campaign, who would benefit? Who would take my place?
Why would Lillian go to prison? What is she hiding?
Only one piece of the picture is getting clearer as the heavy seconds tick by: Whoever has the balls to threaten me wants to control me, take my freedom.
Tell me what to do.
An old panic wells up in my chest, the memory of being under someone else’s thumb, trapped. It makes it hard to breathe. I feel my chest get tighter.
Then I drop the card as a blind fury takes hold.
I broke free a long time ago, and I’m not going back.
I bolt out of my office, itching to get my hands on that bitch, the cause of this.
Fucking Anne.
What did someone else find that the old bitch missed? I trust her to do her job, and this is what I get? All my hard work in jeopardy?
I want to see her pay for this fuck up, but the card isn’t talking about Anne. She was incompetent to begin with, and more of her half-assed meddling won’t fix anything.
I hear the sound of humming and follow it to its source, my fists like hammers ready to swing.
Fucking Lillian.
She gave someone the balls to think they could fuck with me. She gave someone an opening. What is she mixed up with? What is she getting me into? Is this what she wants, to drag me down with her?
When I push open the door to her room, Lillian is sitting on the floor, happily going through the things in her box. I’m about to rip the confession out of her throat but.
What if the blackmailer is wrong? They didn’t say what Lillian is supposedly hiding.
And if they found something Anne couldn’t, what does that say about the blackmailer? What does that say about Lillian?
There’s too much I don’t know. I can’t confront her. And if she’s a little liar, how can I trust what she says?
Regardless, I’m breathing hard in her room, still pissed.
And she’s dressed in clothes I bought, sitting in a room I built, slowly on her way to looking the part in a life I’m giving her.
She probably didn’t think she’d have to pay for any of what she’s greedily taken.
It’s time I do some of the taking.
She fixes her innocent blue eyes on me, immediately alarmed after a look at my face. Her pink lips part to voice a question, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s an invitation.
In two strides, I’m at her side, bending down to grab her face. I dig my fingers into her cheeks, too hard, and stare down at her.
“Lillian, you think I don’t know who you are?” Bewilderment morphs into pain on her face as she winces. I keep squeezing. “You think I don’t know what you want?”
I unbuckle my belt and thumb open my pants.
“Don’t be so impressed with the act you put on. I can see through you. Open your mouth.” I slap her cheek, letting her know I’m not playing around as I get my dick in my hand. “Get me ready and drop the act. I know this is what you want.”
Lillian is red in the face when she looks back up at me, but she’s not blushing this time. Her eyes are hard, daring me, and I’m reminded of when she stood up to Lou. I know she can summon that fire and fight against me.
But she opens her mouth.
I don’t think twice.
I grab the back of her head and pull her against me, making her rub her face against my stiffening dick until she can find my tip and get it in her mouth. My dick twitches at the softness of her lips and tongue and settles halfway in. Her bangs are a mess across her forehead, dipping into her eyes as she glares up at me.
“You don’t know how to suck dick?” I chide.
I don’t need her to reply. I steady her head with my hands on either side of her face and start thrusting. She holds my gaze, those bright blues now dark and filled with arousal.
It gets me harder than her clumsy mouth.
I don’t care if she isn’t good. I still violate that pretty pout of hers until I’m rock hard and slick with her spit. Then I fuck her mouth harder. I wrap my hands in her braids and use them as reins to keep her where I want her. Her hands find their way to my thighs as I use her. Soon, she’s whimpering and taking hard breaths through her nose. I’m panting with her.
“Fuck,” I say under my breath. Her mouth isn’t giving so much resistance now. I can reach deeper, so I take the plunge, wanting to feel her throat. “Take it, Lillian. Take my fucking dick,” I whisper. Her eyes water. She goes completely still, and I inch in, our eyes locked.
Lillian gags and pushes hard against me. I stagger back, but we’re still connected by strings of spit. I don’t give her time to wipe her mouth or collect herself. I’m snatching at her red tube top, pulling it away from her chest. I was right—she isn’t wearing a bra.
“Trying to embarrass me out there?” I bark, letting the top snap back and settle out of place so her tits spill out. Her pink nipples are hard, begging for my attention, but that’s not what we’re doing today. “Don’t wear that shit ever again. I bought you clothes for a reason. You think you know better than me? You think a photo of you dressed like this is going to make me look good?”
Lillian is smart enough to keep her mouth shut and keep her hands out of my way while I rip her pants and panties off. Whatever’s blocking me, I toss it all aside until there’s nothing between us and I’m pushing her legs apart, hovering over her on the floor. I can feel her heat pulling me in, guiding me, and her eyes are on my face, wide with a question.
I give her the answer.
I push against her slit, finding her waiting wet and tight, and hear her inhale sharply. There’s resistance like I knew there’d be, and there’ll be pain.
But I don’t stop.
I push until she yields with a cry, and she swallows my thick length up. Lillian feels so good I have to pause and adjust to her. I watch her eyes dart down between us where our hips meet and back up to my eyes. Her mouth works like she wants to speak, but no words come. I’ve claimed her, we’re connected.
She’s mine.
I stir inside of her, inching back and forth, filling her up, stretching her out. Lillian’s taking sharp little breaths with each movement, but I’m only picking up speed, lengthening my strokes, wanting more.
“Oh fuck, Lillian,” I grunt and lower my head to her shoulder. I shift my hands to her hips and stop holding back. She feels too good.
I fuck her the way I want to, letting her cries fill my ears as I set the pace, fast, faster, taking more and more of her. Her pussy awakens to me, and her legs open as wide as they can, encouraging me deeper. She’s offering herself up to me, and I’m taking it all.
“So fucking good, soo fucking good,” I’m whispering to her. She’s chanting my name, her pussy getting tighter. “Lillian, fuck?—”
I’m getting close, and so is she. I chase our climax, bringing us closer to the edge as I pound into her, hitting it so good she’s digging her nails into me.
“I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming, Charlie!”
It’s the first time I’ve heard her say so much in a month, and I’m coming, too, groaning loud and burying my seed deep as she bucks her hips and milks me. I come so hard it wipes me out completely, but my hips are still going, and so are hers. Her body still shakes beneath mine, and she’s wringing me dry so intensely that I have to pull out, dripping my last.
Lillian’s tube top rests beneath her tits. She hasn’t caught her breath yet, and her dazed eyes are fixed on me, mouth open to suck in air.
“Charlie…” she starts between breaths.
I quickly tuck myself back into my pants and stand up, feeling shaky.
“You’ll stay in here until I let you out,” I croak, my throat dry. I run a hand through my hair. I don’t know what just happened or why I just said that. All I know is that I don’t want her going anywhere, doing anything, getting in my way.
I don’t want to see her.
I can’t even look at her now.
I hadn’t planned on taking her virginity. I know she could have stopped me, but she didn’t.
And some sick dread is settling over me in the wake of it all. It’s the feeling that I can’t take back what I’ve done.
The panic returns, a squirming, restless animal in my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her sit up weakly, and it dawns on me that I can’t bear to hear her voice again.
I leave the room and shut the door behind me before she can speak. After a few taps in SolutionHaven, I’ve locked her in from the outside.
This’ll give me time to think, make a plan.
And try to figure out where this sense of regret is coming from.
As I head back to my office, confusion fogging my brain, there’s one thing I’m certain about.
I’m going to find out her dirty little secret, then crush the blackmailer.