12. Charli
12
CHARLI
Lacing up my boots once more, I can’t help but notice that my hands are shaking. I do my best to ignore it, but truth be told, I know it’s more than just the terror of the attack that has me so freaked out right now.
The shooting from yesterday is still ringing in my ears, and I tossed and turned all night as I tried to put it out of my head. But how could I? I’m still scared that they could be out there, prowling the woods, trying to find this cabin so they can go after me and the guys.
And I know I could never forgive myself if something happened to them because of me. I just couldn’t. I still can’t believe that James has sent people out here as it is—I mean, I’ve been trying to convince myself that it was some mistake, some errant hunter who needs to get his eyes checked rather than someone actively trying to hurt us, but I know that’s not true. I know it’s him. I know the connections his father has, and how he’s used them to get what he wants before, and there’s not a chance in hell I would put it past him to use them to find me and make me pay for humiliating him like I did.
Callum and I haven’t spoken about what happened out there since we got back—not about any of it, even the good stuff. Well, what I thought was the good stuff, anyway. Having sex with him again, it’s…it’s made everything a lot more complicated, that’s for sure. And yet, despite myself, I can’t really find it in me to give a damn, not when it felt so good to be with him again. His touch, his hands on me, his body against mine…it’s a reminder of everything I’ve missed all these years, and everything I’ve been doing my best to pretend to myself that I don’t crave.
But what about Dax? It’s not as though I can forget the kiss with him so easily. I don’t know if Callum has even told him about what happened in the woods—we arrived back late last night, and neither Chuck nor Dax said anything about it.
I get the feeling that Dax is going to flip out if he finds out he’s in any kind of danger—despite the kiss we shared, I can tell he’s still suspicious of me, not exactly pleased that I’m still hanging around even after all this time.
I’ve been hiding out in my room all day, but I need to get out and blow off some steam—and make sure there’s nobody skulking around the cabin. I can’t believe that they would give up so easily, not after they came all the way out to the woods to find me.
How did they even work out where I am, anyway? Did someone see the car? I have so many questions, so many that I know I’ll never get an answer to—but if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that James won’t stop until he feels like he’s gotten the revenge that’s owed to him. And whatever that might be, it’s not going to be pretty for me.
Or for them.
Slipping out of my room, I head for the back door, past Dax and Callum who are sitting with their backs to me next to the fireplace. I can hear them talking, and I don’t want to interrupt. I figure there’s a lot they need to get out, and I’m not going to get in the way of it. God knows I’ve done enough of that as it is.
Outside, it’s actually pretty nice—I wish I could appreciate the sight of the sunshine a little more, but it feels almost exposing to be under such brightness right now, as though I’m in the midst of a police interrogation. It’s just so unsettling, knowing that there’s someone after me, and not having any idea what kind of story James has spun to everyone else.
At least I don’t have to worry about him turning my friends or family against me—it’s not like I had any of those left as it was, not by the time he was done with me.
I hear a slight humming a few yards away from me, and my head whips around to see Chuck in his greenhouse, crouched over and tending to one of his plants. I let out a breath of relief. God, I need to let go of some of this paranoia. These guys have been living out here for a while—I have to trust that they know what they’re doing when it comes to keeping a threat at bay.
Chuck seems to sense me watching him, and he glances up and flashes me a smile. I try to return it, but I feel like it reads as more of a grimace than anything else. He cocks an eyebrow at me, clearly not convinced, and jerks his head inside the greenhouse to indicate that I should come join him.
I hesitate for a moment, but then figure it’s a good plan. Anything to get my mind off the mess that’s going on inside my head. I make my way toward the greenhouse, and he pushes the door open to let me inside.
“Thanks,” I mumble, ducking under his arm. It’s warm in here, thanks to the sunlight being trapped by the glass planes around us, and feels almost cozy. Even though anyone could look in and see us, there’s something nice about how quiet it is, apart from the slight rustle of the leaves of the plants he’s tending.
“You’ve done a really good job with this place,” I remark as I take it all in. “I never had the patience for plants…”
“Really?” he replies, picking up the shears he was working with before I interrupted him. “I find it peaceful. Relaxing, even.”
“Even when you know you’re trying to provide food for your brothers?”
He chuckles. “Well, there’s a store in the nearest town,” he replies. “When I’ve had a few bad harvests, I’ve gone down there to replace them. I’m not too proud for that.”
“How do you make the money for it?” I wonder, the words escaping my mouth before I can stop them. I cringe as soon as I hear how they sound. “Sorry, that’s none of my business…”
“No, it’s fine, you can ask,” he replies, seemingly unbothered. “We all get payouts from the SEALs, Dax particularly, because of his injury?—”
“His injury?”
“His leg, yeah,” he replies. “He tries to cover it up, for the most part, but he…he got it bad in his hip. Struggles with it sometimes even still.”
“Oh, shit,” I mutter. I had no idea. I noticed him walking a little funny a few times, but I never thought much of it—I guess it makes sense, given that he was a SEAL too.
“And we get our dad’s military pension, as well,” he continues. “Between the four of us, that’s more than enough to live on, especially given that we own the cabin.”
“Right, of course,” I agree. “Your father owned it, right? Callum told me, when we were…”
I trail off. I don’t know how much Callum has said to them about our past, but I figure it’s best not to go laying it all out without speaking to him first. Especially when our present seems so murky.
“Yeah, he bought the place when we were kids,” Chuck replies, a small smile crossing his face. “We used to come up here all the time when we were growing up. It was his way to get away from it all. Same as us.”
The words hang heavy in the air. I still don’t know what happened to their father. I knew he’d passed, but Callum hadn’t said much more to me about it than that. I didn’t want to push him at the time, wanting instead to give him a place where he wouldn’t have to focus on all the hard stuff, but maybe I should have tried more…
“Well, you’ve done an amazing job with the place,” I remark, trying to change the subject to something a little more positive. “I don’t think I would have lasted five minutes out here, trying to live on my own.”
He laughs.
“Hey, you’d have done alright,” he teases. “You could have used your pastry chef skills. They teach you how to hunt in pastry school, right?”
“Pastry school?” I shoot back, unable to hold back a laugh. “You think that’s what it’s called?”
He shrugs. “Sue me, I’m a military guy. I don’t know shit about baking.”
“Maybe I could show you,” I offer. “And you could give me some gardening hints in return. I’m sure that’ll come in useful, when I…”
I trail off. When I what, exactly? Get back to reality? Get back to my life? It’s not like I had much of a life to get back to, even before the wedding. Shit, that’s how James made it. He never wanted me to have anything else to fall back on, and he all but succeeded. When I leave this place, I don’t have a damn thing to walk back into. I’m starting from scratch.
If James lets me live long enough to start at all, that is. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought, and Chuck seems to notice the shift in my mood.
“Sure, I can show you,” he replies smoothly. He reaches for my hand, pressing the shears into them.
I stare down at the large metal pincers, and then glance up at him. “I’m not sure you want me holding something this sharp…”
“Here, I’ll help,” he assures me, and he quickly covers my hands with his own—his hands are a little rough, calloused, but it’s not exactly an unpleasant feeling. He moves in behind me, his body mirroring mine, and I can feel the warmth of him just a few inches from me.
“Just cut away these weeds,” he explains as he guides the shears in my hands to a large sprout of greenery emerging from one of the tomato plants. I try to stay focused on the task at hand, but all I can think about is how near he is to me right now—how close I’ve been to his brothers, and how good it feels for his steady hand to be showing me just what to do.
He snips at one of the plants and it falls to the ground, bouncing off one of my boots on to the floor below.
“Not so hard, huh?” he remarks, moving my hands over to the next one.
“Not so hard,” I agree. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. Is he doing that on purpose? Is he even aware of it? I wish I had the nerve to ask him, but saying it out loud would be all kinds of stupid and all kinds of dangerous, given how complicated things already are.
“You think you can manage this one on your own?”
I bite my lip. I probably could, of course. It’s not exactly rocket science. All I have to do is make sure I don’t spear myself on the end of these shears somehow, and I’m going to be just fine. But instead…
Instead, I find myself wanting him close to me. Needing it. Which I know is crazy, given what’s already happened between Dax and Callum and me, but…
But I can’t help it.
“I think I could use a little more help,” I confess, glancing over my shoulder at him. He doesn’t move his hands from mine, giving me a slight smile, as though he can tell what’s going on inside my head.
“I guess I can manage that.”
He moves my hands to the next plant that needs shearing, and moves the tool toward it. He has to inch slightly closer to me to get to it, but I can feel his chest against my back, the steady thud of his heart through his shirt.
“And just squeeze down on it like this…”
He puts a little pressure on my hands again, and this time, the shears slip slightly—I let out a gasp and stumble backward, trying to dodge them before I manage to impale myself or something, and they clatter to the ground before me.
“Hey, you alright?” he asks, sounding concerned. I inhale a deep breath, and nod.
“Y-yeah,” I murmur. “I’m fine. I just…gave myself a fright, that’s all.”
“You’re good,” he adds—and I realize that his hands have come to my belly to keep me steady, and that I’m pressed against him, nearly flush to his body. A throb of excitement moves through me.
What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Charli? I scold myself internally, but I can’t deny how good it feels to be this near to him, his hands resting on my stomach, his chest pressed against my back.
I wait for him to pull away from me. But he doesn’t. He stays right where he is, his strong hands holding me steady, and I try to convince myself to shift away from him, but…
But I don’t want to. I can feel my breath hitching in my chest. I couldn’t be making this more obvious if I tried, but it’s hard to give a damn, not when he feels this good, this close to me…
“You can let me go now,” I whisper to him—but it’s as clear to him as it is to me that I’m just saying what I think I should, not what I truly believe. I feel his mouth graze over the back of my head, his nose brushing into my hair.
“Do you want me to?”
“I…”
My head is spinning. His breath is warm on my neck, and his strength against me is comforting, soothing, after the mess of what happened yesterday. It’s not that I don’t trust Callum to keep me safe—at least, not when it comes to my physical safety. But something about Chuck is so steady, so strong, so seductively tempting…before I know it, I’m leaning back into him, embracing the feeling of his arms around me as I turn my head to kiss him for the first time.
His mouth meets mine with a soft caress, like he’s testing the waters at first. But as I move in closer to him, he deepens the kiss, his hands moving to my low belly, just above the cut of my jeans, easing up my shirt to brush his fingertips over the spot just above my mound.
I gasp as I feel his hand moving downward, and he breaks the kiss, shifting his lips to my neck instead. I glance down to see those strong, calloused hands moving toward my most intimate spot.
He pops the button on my jeans and dips his hand inside as he traces his tongue along my neck and up to my ear. His lips seal around my lobe, and he sinks his teeth lightly into my flesh, drawing a moan from between my lips. It crosses my mind, just for an instant, that he might have been thinking about this for a whole lot longer than I realize.
He cups his hand around my panties, his fingers massaging me softly through the fabric for a moment or two before he pulls them to the side. I rest my head back against his chest as he moves his lips down to my neck again, his fingers parting my folds with ease and teasing along the edge of my slit.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan. It’s clear he knows exactly what he’s doing, but I can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since he’s shared this kind of intimacy with a woman. Honestly, the thought of being his first in a long time is sexy as hell. Knowing that he’s waited for so long, but I’m the first in all that time to make him change his mind and decide that he wants to break his dry spell…
I angle my hips forward, letting his fingers push just an inch or two inside of me. He lets out a low growl against my ear at the feel of my pussy, and I’m already so wet from just his proximity that he easily slides himself another inch into me.
“Fuck, you feel perfect,” he murmurs against my neck, the movement of his mouth tingling across my skin. He guides his fingers all the way inside of me so his hand is pressed flat against my pussy—right here in the greenhouse, where either of his brothers could walk out the door and catch us at any second. Instead of scaring me into stopping, I find myself even more turned-on by the thought of it, how much danger we could be in, what might happen if we were interrupted, and I begin to rock my hips against his hand.
“That’s it, Charli,” he continues, his voice low and throaty, his head hooked over my shoulder so he can watch me moving against him. “Make yourself come for me. Make yourself come on my fingers…”
His orders are firm, almost demanding, and I find myself picking up the pace, beginning to move with more intention against his hand as I draw closer and closer to the edge. I squeeze my thighs around his hand, holding him in place, and he arches his fingers slightly so he’s hitting my G-spot, that point of near-painful pleasure that draws another whimper from between my lips.
“I can feel how close you are, baby,” he murmurs, tongue teasing over my lobe in between his words. “I want to feel it. Just let go. Just let yourself come…”
I close my eyes, and with one more buck of my hips, I finally feel it—the orgasm breaking through me, coursing from the top of my scalp all the way down through my body, my toes curling in those oversized boots. I cry out, and he quickly covers my mouth with his, like he’s capturing the sound of my pleasure before anyone else can get to it.
I can feel myself pulsing around his hand, the throbbing pleasure of my orgasm taking control of me. For a moment, I forget about everything. I forget about James, I forget about having to flee my own wedding, I forget about the accident and being shot at yesterday. I forget about everything in the world but the deliciously selfish indulgence of letting myself come against his hand, his fingers stilling inside me as he allows me to grind myself down, taking exactly what I need from him.
When he finally pulls back from me, and I start to come back down to earth, I can feel the pressure of his cock against the small of my back. Instantly, another rush of desire moves through me. His fingers aren’t enough, no. I need all of him. And I need it now. I don’t care how risky it is, how likely it might be that we’re busted. I just want him, and it’s overtaking every other inch of good sense in my body.
I flip around and hop back up onto the table behind me, parting my legs and snaking them around his thighs to pull him in close. He pushes his hand behind my neck, pulling me toward him, and his eyes are dark with a desire that’s damn near intoxicating. This man wants me—all of me. And right now, there’s nothing I desire more than the feeling of his cock moving inside of me.
He kisses me again as my hands scrabble for his zipper, our tongues coming together in a hungry, needy frenzy. But before I can so much as undo his fly, a sound draws our attention, and we spring apart at once.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, my head flipping this way and that as I try to locate the source.
“It was Dax,” he mutters, pulling back from me. “Shit. I should see what that’s about…”
“I’ll come with you,” I offer, and he looks down at me for a moment. Before I can get out another word, he leans down to kiss me one more time.
“If you think this is over,” he murmurs against my mouth, his voice low with desire once more. “You’re wrong. You hear me?”
His words are almost forceful—but I know exactly how he feels. Whatever happened here today, it’s not enough, not by a long shot, and I know I need more.
I nod. And then, before I can so much as get my bearings, he turns to head into the house, leaving me to catch up in an attempt to find out what this commotion is all about.