23. Horrible Superhero
23
HORRIBLE SUPERHERO
DAISY
“This is Mrs. Charles Hawthorne. My wife, my love, and the most important woman in my life.”
Charles’ words keep echoing in my mind as I lie down in the middle of his bed. It’s been hours since he dropped me home from the mall, and I’m still struggling to accept that today was real and not just a dream.
Did Charles really show up, once again abandoning his work in the middle of the day?
A knock on the door startles me, and I almost leap out of bed.
Is it him?
However, the door opens slowly, and Mrs. K peeks her head in.
“Can I make you something to eat now, Daisy?”
“Thanks, but I’m really not hungry. Have you heard from Charles?” I ask in return.
“I just got a text from Steve that they’re on their way. Mr. Hawthorne should be home soon.”
After she leaves, I get out of the bed. My phone is flooded with texts from Willow, Elodie, and Violet, all awaiting my response, but I’m too anxious to reply.
I opt to turn on the TV instead. The news coverage about Charles in the hotel is still playing.
I look at myself on the screen, standing beside him, my hand tightly clasped in his. I can still feel his touch, not just on my palm, but the electricity coursing throughout my entire body. On the screen, Charles clears his throat.
“ If anything happens to her, I’ll destroy whoever supported that cause. I’ll keep doing that until there isn’t a single media outlet or newspaper remaining in this town. And that’s a fucking promise.”
His words send a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my belly.
Who exactly is this Charles Hawthorne?
“Mrs. Kowalski said you’re not hungry, but I’m starving after playing your superhero again.”
“Charles!” I turn around in a flash, my heart skipping a beat before racing wildly at the sight of him. “When did you get here?”
“When you were busy admiring me on the TV.” His smile is the same one he’s been giving me all week, as if nothing has happened, while I’m feeling exactly the opposite.
How is he not upset or irritated?
I had a whole apology memorized, but now…I don’t think it’s needed.
“I was not admiring you. Plus, you would look horrible in a cape.” My mumbled words seem to cause his grin to only grow.
“I don’t care. When it comes to my dear wife, I’ll happily play a superhero whose power is to look horrible.”
Alarm bells ring in my head. Why does his presence calm the anxiety that had gripped me tightly the entire day?
Slow down, Daisy. Don’t jump to conclusions.
It’s not Charles’ presence but just that he’s not blowing his top.
I’m just about to repeat that statement in my head once again when he leans in. I wait for his kiss. But surprisingly, it never comes. Instead, I feel a soft paper on my lips and my eyes fall open.
“What’s that?”
“A precaution so no one takes advantage of us in future. Since it’s widely known that my wife is a fan of stationery, this is custom-made with a barcode.” He lifts the paper from my lips and turns on the camera of his phone. A second later, there’s a green check mark on the screen. “Only when you see this, you can be sure that the message came from me. Otherwise, you don’t have to come running for me.”
“I didn’t run.” My rebuttal is so weak that I could have just agreed with him. After a few moments of silence, I finally ask, “Wouldn’t it be easier to stop using handwritten messages and just send an official email instead?”
My palms turn clammy as I imagine myself sitting in Charles’ office with my laptop, trying to keep up with his words as he dictates notes for a meeting. But before my panic engine can run at full throttle, Charles lifts my face up with his finger under my chin.
“I don’t want you or any other member of my family to stop doing something they love just because there’s an asshole trying to ruin it.”
Our eyes connect and all the nerve endings at the back of my neck tingle. My husband, my boss, the person I used to call asshole is protecting me and worrying about my comfort.
“I’m so sorry about Jax, Charles,” I whisper under my breath.
“I don’t want you to say that asshole’s name again. Jax is no longer going to be a problem in our life.” Charles tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, but I’m too mesmerized by his words.
He said our life.
“Did you really destroy his IPO?” My heart pounds against my rib cage as I stare at him.
“Will you be upset if I did?” Charles asks, his emotions giving nothing away.
“Definitely not after what he did today.”
“I ruined his fucking IPO.” A vindictive smile finally stretches over his lips. “And I’ll ruin him for putting you in harm’s way.”
Heat blooms in my stomach, spreading like wildfire across my skin at the possessive tone of his voice.
“He thought he could get to me through you. Even if he didn’t mean to hurt you physically, he put you through an emotional ordeal. He has to pay a price for that.”
“Because I’m a Hawthorne now?” I sound like a high school girl with my teeny-tiny voice while Charles’ eyes flare with unspoken emotion.
“Yes, but also because you’re my wife and you’re the person I care about...a lot.”
“Since when?” My voice is low and sincere, and maybe even… hopeful .
“Who knows?” His words hang in the air, and the butterflies in my stomach go crazy.
Before I can say anything, there’s a knock on the door, and I welcome the distraction.
“Mr. Hawthorne, shall I set up the dinner table? I’m sure you and Mrs. Hawthorne are hungry.” Mrs. K smiles, and suddenly, I appreciate her caring presence in Charles’ home.
“You guessed right. I’m famished. Are you hungry now, my dear wife?”
I nod, and a few moments later, we’re seated at the dining table. There’s a nervous electricity, but looking at Charles, I’m sure it’s only me who’s feeling it. Because my husband, the self-proclaimed superhero of the day and the man who wouldn’t smile to stop world hunger until some weeks ago, has a giant grin on his lips.
We mostly eat in silence except when our gazes connect, and in those moments, I’m the first one to break contact, ending the strange feeling, which tells me there’s still a lot left in this day.
“Would you like something for dessert?” Mrs. K asks as she takes away our plates.
“I could definitely go for something sweet today,” Charles replies, but he isn’t looking at the housekeeper.
No, his gaze is fixed on me, causing heat to sear so deep I feel it in my bones. I up the wattage of my smile, something I’ve been trying the entire week whenever he’s giving me those smoldering looks.
But tonight, it doesn’t seem to work.
It seems as if we’ve been playing around fire for too long, and now there’s no escaping the inferno.
“I’ll have apple pie and ice cream in a second.” Unaware of the tension in the room, Mrs. K is busy arranging dessert, which is the last thing on our minds.
“On second thought, we’ll eat the dessert later. I have something urgent to discuss with Daisy right now.”
Only if urgent is the new word for driving your wife crazy.
When he rises from his chair and places his hand forward for me, that tiny gesture feels like the biggest moment of my life, even bigger than when I signed the marriage contract, or when Charles kissed me the first time.
His hand feels warm, unlike mine, and Charles intertwines our fingers as I get up. In a completely unhurried pace, he brings our folded hands to his mouth and kisses the back of mine.
Just a small touch and my heart is pounding in my ears. I’m in a daze, my namesake state, when he leads me in the same relaxed stride to the bedroom. But the moment the door closes, it’s like a switch flips.
I squeal as Charles crowds me against the wooden door before I can walk away.
“Is my wife ready to beg tonight?”
I’d initially thought my answer to this question would be a nod, but right now, watching his smirk, it’s like years of habit and I can’t hold my tongue.
“Sorry, but my husband is too damn rich for me to beg for anything.”
Charles’ eyes widen before a laugh shoots out of him. He leans forward, his chin resting over my head as he pulls me closer.
“Damn you, butterfly.” His back is still shaking with the last bits of laughter. “I never thought I’d find someone more headstrong than me, but God, you’re unbelievable.”
And he loves my bratty response. It’s all over his face.
It’s a magical feeling when you know you’ve left your guy speechless and in a trance just by being you. There’s no effort and no race to be someone else.
He’s just into the lame, silly you .
Charles pulls back, and then his thumb tugs my bottom lip down as he groans. “Since I can’t take it any longer, for one night, and just for one night , I’m ready to beg.”
Holy crap! Charles Hawthorne doesn’t just say it, but he slides onto his knees. His tall frame, especially compared to mine, brings him eye level with my boobs.
“So, my dear wife, what is it gonna be?” he asks, but his hands are already moving up my legs.
I’m having a hard time believing this is the same man I’ve spent almost every waking moment with during the last four years, and yet he never made a comment that could remotely be labeled sexual.
“Since you asked so politely.” My voice shakes as his fingers drift under the hem of my skirt, grazing the backs of my thighs.
“I seriously want you to finish that sentence in a ‘ hell yeah ,’ Daisy.”
A chill breaks out at the base of my neck, traveling down my spine until I shiver everywhere.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip, which moments ago felt his touch, and I finally nod.
“Thank fuck.” Charles pulls me down to him before his face presses against my neck, and I feel his hot breath over my skin. “Do you know how torturous these days have been?”
“I’m happy I wasn’t the only miserable one.”
Charles chuckles and leans back, sitting on his heels.
“I’ve dreamed so much about it that I’m now not sure where to start.”
He has dreamed about me!
Not just about me, but dreamed of us like this.
I worry I might die from this excessive dose of happy surprise, and God, that would be such a shame.
“I would be happy with anything, as long as we talk less and do the other stuff more.”
The words have barely left my mouth when Charles’ traveling fingers dip inside my underwear, and I jolt, which only makes his grin wider.
“Will you be able to control those remarks while I make you come, or should I make sure your mouth is occupied?”
Images run in my mind where my mouth is occupied with Charles’ cock, and my gaze drops to his lap.
He chuckles once again. “Is my wife eager to get a taste?”
I never imagined Charles talking dirty, but God, this man could win awards for it, especially when he times it perfectly with that smile.
My eyes meet his, and I’m about to lie and shake my head, when he unzips my skirt and lets it fall on the floor over my feet.
I gasp, and before I can react more, Charles moves the gusset of my panties aside, his mouth hot over my sex.
My brain struggles to decide whether to bend forward and take his support, which will also mean pulling away from his hot lips, or lean back against the door and push myself more into him.
I settle for something in between. My hands fist his cropped hair for support while my back arches.
My head falls against the hard wood of the door as Charles’ tongue finds its way inside my sex. His hands are on my ass, squeezing my cheeks, and my moan covers any sensible word I could possibly form.
When Charles’ teeth graze my clit, sparks go behind my closed eyelids.
I’ve never been touched this way. I’ve never been loved this way. And I know he’s just getting started.
Like always, he hears my unsaid words, and as if to prove it, Charles pulls away only long enough to tear my silk panties, which drop down on my skirt at my feet.
His mouth sucking my clit is relentless, and his hands roam up from my hips, traveling under my silk blouse and finally over to my breasts, covered in a matching silk bra.
He starts slowly, kneading my breasts through the fabric before pushing the cups down. That only makes my boobs jut out, and Charles tweaks my nipples.
A part of my brain is trying to repeat and remember his every ministration because this is Charles freaking Hawthorne. A man who, until months ago, I couldn’t even imagine having sex with. But here he is, holding me against his bedroom door and eating me like I’m the most delicious dessert ever known to him.
Charles Hawthorne isn’t used to losing control, and I’ll take everything he’s giving tonight with open arms.
My eyes close. I focus on him and his touch—until the pressure builds beyond control, and I shatter into a billion pieces.
“Charles.” His name from my lips is like a prayer.
“I got you, butterfly. You taste so damn good.” Charles pulls away from my sex only for a second before going back in and sucking every drop.
I fold myself forward for support, physically and emotionally drained, but he pulls me closer to him. I feel him rising from the floor, and before I can make sense of it, he has me deposited on the bed, my back resting against the headboard.
“That was…” I start, unable to find the right word to fit this perfect moment.
“Just the beginning, my dear wife.”
I open my eyes and press my lips against his cheek in a gentle kiss. “I can’t wait.”
That’s the only green light he needs, and Charles’ hands get to business. He pulls the blouse over my head, and with an expert move I could never imagine him doing, Charles unhooks my bra.
“That was pretty fast. How much practice do you have?”
He smirks. “Sometimes it’s not about practice but motivation. And right now, my motivation to fuck you is off the charts.”
While I sit naked on Charles’ bed, trying to not be self-conscious, he leans back. And before I can scream at him to come back, he toes off his shoes.
My order-obsessed husband and boss kicks his shoes in different directions before removing his socks. I’m still reeling when he unbuttons his cuffs and slides his cufflinks into his pants pocket before undoing his shirt buttons and taking it off. I take in everything—his chest, broad enough to prove he’s into sports but not wide like he’s spending merciless hours in a gym.
My gaze moves lower to his tapered waist and the happy trail starting above his navel and hiding in his pants. But not for long, as Charles unhooks his belt, and then his pants are off. Those gray boxers I’ve only seen in packaging until now look mighty supreme as he saunters toward me.
His knee rests on the edge of the bed, and it dips under his weight.
“You have no idea how fucking hot you look, Daisy.”
“Right back at you.”
Charles chuckles, pushing down his boxers, and I need a moment to savor the sight.
“You did inherit some great family jewels.”
“Have I told you how much I appreciate your running mouth?” He cocks an eyebrow as I watch him put on a condom.
I nod with a laugh, but it dies when Charles pulls on my feet and I slide down until I’m sprawled on the bed like a starfish.
His eyes shine as he looks at my sex.
“Wet and glistening, my dear wife. Is it all for me?”
“Do you really want an answer to that question?” I cock my brow, when my insides are shivering.
“I do, especially when I know it’s going to be a breathy, horny yes.” Charles’ smirk is perfectly timed, because the moment he brings his cock against my opening and runs it over my wet lips, I can’t bite back my moan—a breathy, horny moan, exactly like he expected.
“You’re a vision, Daisy. Better than any of my fantasies.”
I don’t know what I want more, for Charles to keep talking and tell me in detail all he imagined with me, or for him to fuck me like I imagined he would.
And thank God he isn’t waiting for any input from me, because in the next second, he thrusts inside me, inch by inch.
My sex, which hasn’t seen any action in months, is all ready for him. But my insides need a few moments to adjust when he’s fully seated.
“Tell me if it hurts,” Charles grits above me.
“It will only hurt if you stop,” I grit right back.
It does hurt a little, but it also feels good—real good.
“Fuck, you’re big.” I groan. Or is it a moan?
“I hope that isn’t a complaint.”
“Hell no. But can you move now, Charles?”
Before he does that, Charles grabs my left hand, which is clutching his forearm, and places it over his heart. My wedding band and daisy ring stand proud against the contrast of our skin.
My heartbeat halts at that simple act in the middle of our frenzy. I feel like this is his way of saying what we’re doing is more than just sex, and I’m nervous and excited to find that meaning when Charles is buried deep inside me.
His face is serious as he continues to stare at me as if the same emotion runs through him, and his lips curl on one side.
And then Charles fucks me with long, measured thrusts. Each push seems to have a purpose, and if it’s to make me forget my name, it does a damn good job.
My hand claws at his chest, and I know my nails are leaving marks on his flawless skin. But before I can apologize or form a sentence that might sound like an apology, Charles’ thrusts pick up momentum, making me forget everything.
His thumb comes to play with my clit, and it takes another second before I lose it all.
He hides his face in my neck before he falls apart in one final thrust.
We breathe heavily as he drops down beside me with zero finesse.
My eyes are closed, but I hear Charles moving, possibly taking care of the condom.
“Those were some extraordinary moves,” I blurt when he pulls me closer to his chest.
“Thank you so much. I’m glad you approve.” His voice is breathy, and I don’t miss the smile behind it. “Now sleep and you can dream about my moves when they’re still fresh in your mind.”
“You joke about it all you like. But believe me when I say, I’m not going to forget anything about this night, possibly ever.”