Chapter Eight Charlie #2
“Can you close this tab out, please?” I said, handing him my card.
“Of course,” he said, swiping it through the machine. “Your date appears to hold her liquor very well. Poor Jeanne is going to be miserable tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I’m going to take Julia’s drunk ass home so I can go give Violet a piece of my mind.”
Benji handed me my card back and smirked at me. “You two love to give one another shit, don’t you?”
“She clearly does.” I signed the piece of paper and told him I’d talk to him later.
Getting Julia out the door was a whole other issue. The two-block walk felt like a full marathon.
“Are you seriously not going to come inside? Even after I said I’m fine with your Limp Biscuit dick and your baby doll obsession?” Her words were slurring now as I walked her up to the front door.
“I’m not coming inside, but I appreciate the support.” I chuckled, because the whole thing was ridiculous.
“Fine. It’s your loss,” she hissed as she put her key in the door.
“I’m sure it is.” I held up a hand, and she slammed the door in my face, which was a perfect ending to a horrific evening.
I made my way home and cut through the side yard, because I had a bone to pick with my neighbor first. The light was coming through the window, so I knew she was still up. I knocked on the door, then shoved my hands in my pockets, suddenly second-guessing myself.
What if she had a dude here?
She might not be alone.
What the fuck was I even doing here?
I was turning to get out of there when the door flew open.
“Charles. How was your date?” she asked as a mischievous grin took over her face.
“Don’t you mean Limp Biscuit?”
“Sir Limps a Lot is my personal favorite, although I think Get Limpy with It is another good option,” she said, and my eyes moved from her pretty face down her body.
She wore a thin tank top, and my gaze zoned in on the two hard peaks poking through the fabric.
She caught me staring and shrugged. “It’s cold outside. ”
“Apparently. And thanks for making that the most uncomfortable night of my life,” I said, trying to hide the smile that I couldn’t fight any longer, because the evening had been laughable at the very least.
“Maybe you can cozy up to your baby dolls and brush their hair and snuggle them in bed tonight to comfort yourself from your horrible date?” She smirked.
“You know how insane that sounds, right? Me and my limp dick curled up with a bunch of creepy dolls?”
“Hey, your great-grandmother’s dolls could be keepsakes. And Julia didn’t have any issues with it. I think she actually liked the idea of you being a little—unusual. It can be intimidating when someone appears too perfect.”
I stepped closer, and I noticed the way she sucked in a breath. “Too perfect, huh? Is that what you think of me, Firefly?”
“Me? No. I find you to be very imperfect.” She cleared her throat, and her voice was a little husky now. “Moody, bossy, and what you did with Dean was a dick move.”
“What is your obsession with my dick?” I asked, my voice so gruff it was barely recognizable.
“I could care less about your limp package,” she said as her hands fisted my shirt and she tugged me closer, completely contradicting the words leaving her mouth.
“I think you do care.” I leaned down, my lips so close they grazed hers, my hand moving to the side of her neck as my thumb traced her jawline.
Have I ever wanted anyone more?
It made no sense. This woman drove me mad.
She tangled her hands in my hair, and her green eyes locked with mine. “Obviously you want to kiss me.”
“I think you want to kiss me just as bad as I want to kiss you, Firefly,” I said, our lips still brushing against one another’s.
“I mean, it’s normal to be curious,” she said, her words breathy. “We could agree to one kiss, and we never speak of it again.”
That was all I needed. My mouth crashed into hers.
Her lips parted in invitation, and my tongue slipped inside.
Her hands were pulling at my hair, tugging me closer, and I gripped her ass and lifted her feet off the ground.
I stepped inside to get out of the cold and kicked the door closed behind me.
I pressed her back against the door, and I moaned when she ground up against my cock.
I had one hand supporting her ass and the other on the side of her neck, tipping her head to the side so I could take the kiss deeper.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging me closer as she moved faster.
Our lips attaching to one another.
It was frantic and needy.
Her hands moved to my shoulders, her mouth pulling back from mine as she gasped and dug her nails into my shoulders as she continued grinding up against me with a fury.
Faster.
Harder.
My dick was so hard I was certain he’d tear through the denim.
And she used every inch to get herself off.
I thrust into her and watched as she went right over the edge.
It took everything in me to remain still as she rode out every last bit of pleasure.
I was desperate to follow her into oblivion. But I did not need to appear like a teenage boy who couldn’t control himself.
Even if that was exactly how I felt.
I just stared at her, watching the way her eyes fell closed.
The way her cheeks flushed.
Her lips were red and swollen where we’d kissed like two feral animals.
And even if I didn’t let myself finish, watching her fall apart while grinding up against my cock was the next best thing.
Apparently, Limp Biscuit still had it.