Chapter 19
C harlie Sutton had better be the one. Because he’s officially ruined me for all other men.
I stare at the feast for several seconds before I give my boyfriend a sideways glance.
“Did you go to culinary school somewhere in between graduating from Dartmouth at the top of your class and running the family business?” I ask, not entirely joking.
“These omelets look like they were made by a French chef.” There are even fresh chives sprinkled on top.
Charlie shakes his head, grinning. “I watched a YouTube video this morning. ”
“Of course you did,” I say with a smile back at him. As soon as he’s settled in bed beside me, I circle my arms around his neck and kiss him.
If it weren’t for the breakfast tray in our way, I know things would start getting hot and heavy between us. Immediately turned on, I take Charlie’s bottom lip between my teeth and pull ever-so-gently, which elicits a sexy groan.
“As tempted as I am to see where this is going,” he says, “we should probably eat first. If we’re going to spend the rest of the morning in bed, we’ll need the energy.”
“You don’t have to work?” I ask, my cheeks warming as I remember all the ways he pleasured me until sunrise.
“I told my assistant I was taking a personal day,” he says with a wink before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Lucky me,” I reply, now chomping at the bit to finish breakfast. There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the morning in bed with Charlie, further exploring our undeniable chemistry.
This must be what it’s like for Dex and Sunny—and why he never gave up on getting her back. I’m so grateful he didn’t let me settle for a relationship without passion. Now I have everything I could ever hope for. Not only do I feel at ease with Charlie, but we have passion in spades.
After the gourmet breakfast courtesy of my drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend, we get back to kissing.
Charlie takes no time lifting his shirt over my head so I’m naked again.
We’re both so eager that we don’t spend nearly as long on foreplay as we did last night—although Charlie makes it clear that he will do anything I need to get me ready .
“I woke up ready,” I tell him as I reach for the box of condoms on the nightstand. I put one on him, then straddle his lap, my heart racing as I guide every glorious inch of him inside me.
Charlie sits up so we’re pressed against each other, his soft lips traveling from my collarbone to my breasts.
He takes one in his mouth while he massages the other with his hand, sending waves of pleasure down my body.
Then he kisses me, his fingers moving to grip my ass as he works my hips to meet his thrusts.
A ray of morning light peeks through his window shades, and between every kiss, I catch him looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman who ever walked the earth.
There’s something reverent in his gaze that makes me feel more adored than I ever have in my life.
When I’m on the brink of coming, Charlie moves his hands up my back and shifts us, so I’m lying down. Then he hooks my knees over his broad shoulders and, in this position, I feel him reach the very depth of me.
“Holy fucking shit,” I cry out in ecstasy.
Charlie lets out a breathy laugh. “You never say ‘fuck,’” he says on a deliciously deep thrust. “I like it.”
I moan as he brings me closer and closer to peak pleasure. “No one’s ever made me feel this fucking good, Charlie.”
He brings his lips to my neck, which makes me tingle everywhere, my nerve endings sparking in response to his touch. “We were made for each other. That’s why this feels so right.”
Not five seconds later, I’m completely undone—fireworks exploding in my core, where Charlie’s simultaneously climaxing.
Afterward, I rest my head on his shoulder, and his fingers massage my scalp and play with my hair as we recover. It’s bliss.
“Have you ever been to the Chicago Botanic Garden?” he asks me after a beat.
An amused smile forms on my lips. It’s not the sort of thing I’m used to hearing after sex.
Typically I get a recap of how good it was, or how hot I am, or questions about when we can do it again.
But that’s not where Charlie’s mind is. He wants to make plans with me—outside the bedroom.
It makes what we just shared so much more meaningful, knowing our connection isn’t purely physical.
When I look up at him, my heart flutters. “No, but I heard it’s beautiful.”
“Me too. Want to go check it out this afternoon?”
“That sounds perfect,” I reply, wondering if life gets any better than this. Good food, great sex, and someone special to explore the city with? I’m in heaven.
“I was thinking of bringing my camera,” Charlie goes on. “You inspired me yesterday, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” I say, smiling up at him.
He nods. “I admire how dedicated you are to painting. And I know that if I want to transition careers, I’m going to have to put more time into my photography, too. So, I’ve decided to do that—starting today.”
“Charlie, that’s so exciting!” I squeal, hugging him. “I’m happy for you.”
Italy, here we come.
We shower and get dressed in our respective apartments, then Charlie drives us to the botanic garden in his black Range Rover, looking incredibly sexy behind the wheel.
Although, I also thought he looked sexy brushing his teeth this morning.
After the last twelve hours, I can hardly look at him without thinking about how damn good he is in bed.
This sexual side of Charlie is such a pleasant surprise.
Turns out, underneath the golden boy exterior, there’s a naughty guy who’s just the right amount of assertive and dominant.
Since I’m so petite, compared to his tall, muscular frame, he can easily pick me up and throw me around the bedroom—and it is such a turn-on.
Another major turn-on is how happy he looks behind his camera.
The botanic garden is stunning. Located in a suburb of Chicago, it boasts twenty-seven gardens on 385 acres of land.
It’s like walking through a living, breathing Monet painting, complete with arched wooden bridges and waterlilies.
But even amid the vivid natural beauty of flowers, and ponds, and trees, I can’t take my eyes off Charlie, and the way he comes to life when he looks through his lens.
“I know you’re still working on putting together a collection of paintings,” he says to me as we stroll in the late summer sunshine, “but I’d love to see some of your work, when you’re ready to show me. No rush, of course.”
We’re journeying across the Malott Japanese Garden bridge, which is so magical in its beauty, it makes me feel like we’re walking through a fairytale.
We pause at the top of the bridge to take in the lush greenery that surrounds us in every direction, and although the view is serene, my stomach flutters with anxiety.
Of course I want to show Charlie my work.
But my favorite piece is the one I did of him, and it’s obvious, to me at least, that I have very strong feelings for my subject.
The golden glow of his skin, the rosy stain on his cheeks, those full, kissable lips…
and let’s not forget that gleam in his eyes.
It’s the lust—or love—or whatever I saw when he looked at me for the first time.
How will he react if I work up the nerve to tell him that?
Will he confirm it was love at first sight when we crashed into each other?
Or will my not-so-subtle interpretation of our meet-cute leave him feeling flustered?
Maybe he’s not ready to admit the depth of his feelings for me.
Even worse, will he tell me I have it all wrong?
He’s smitten with me, yes, but maybe his version of smitten has less to do with love, and more with physical attraction.
“Soon,” I say with a coy smile. It’s the best I can do for now.
After another week or two, maybe I’ll feel secure enough about Charlie’s feelings for me to reveal my innermost desire.
I want this to be love at first sight. I want Charlie Sutton to be my last first kiss. I want him to be my soulmate.
By the time we get back to the city, it’s early evening, and I offer to make him dinner at my place. As soon as I lock the door behind us, he puts his arms around me and leads me several steps in reverse, so my back is pressed against the wall of my entryway.
The look in his eyes when he peels his lips from mine tells me that his intentions are anything but innocent. Right before he kisses me again, though, he pauses. “Is this too much? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I giggle and shake my head. “It’s not too much, Charlie. I’ve been wanting you all day. ”
He smiles before his gaze turns serious again. “You promise you’ll let me know if you need a break?”
I nod and bring his mouth toward mine, and we kiss feverishly as he unbuttons my shorts and they fall to the floor. I step out of them, then Charlie sweeps my lace underwear to the side and hooks a finger in me.
“I love how wet you are for me,” he says, his lips grazing the soft skin below my ear.
When I start moaning, he pulls a condom out of his wallet.
A minute later, my panties are off and he’s fucking me against the wall, which is unbelievably hot.
If there’s anyone in the hallway, I have no doubt they can hear how much I’m enjoying it.
Normally I’d feel self-conscious, but when I’m having sex with Charlie, my focus is only on him, and the expert way he handles my body.
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to come in this position, but he has me lifted with one arm, as though I were light as a feather, and his other hand is between my legs, his fingers rubbing me in all the right places. Before long, he’s giving me my fifth orgasm in less than twenty-four hours.
“You’re amazing,” he tells me afterward, with that smitten look on his face.