19. Round One
CHAPTER 19
ROUND ONE
EMMA
T here’s no need to be nervous. I asked him here. He said yes. This is probably a regular Tuesday night for Charlie.
Nothing special. Wake up, go to work, give a girl an orgasm.
The usual.
I’ve already spent an hour tidying my apartment, and it’s too late to hide the stuffed raven I won in last year’s Secret Santa. If Charlie’s afraid of claws, even plush ones, maybe he can’t be trusted with my pussy.
A sharp knock makes me jolt and sends my heart racing.
Okay.
When I pull the door open, Charlie’s as easygoing as I’ve ever seen him. The suit jacket’s gone again, tie loose, collar undone. There’s a tan line I’ve never seen before, whispering clues about who he is underneath the suit. I shouldn’t be as tempted as I am to find out.
This isn’t supposed to be about him.
“Come in.”
As he saunters past, I’m treated to Charlie’s impeccable ass. Whoever tailors his pants either deserves an award or a sexual harassment lawsuit.
I’m so busy admiring that I almost walk into him when he turns around and leans in, his hands settling on my hips.
I turn my head quickly, and his lips graze my cheek. “One more thing. I don’t think we should kiss. This is purely physical, and I don’t want either of us to confuse things.”
He doesn’t move away, and I’m left staring at his baby blues blinking back at me, his long lashes sweeping his cheekbones. I’m not sure how long the moment lasts, only that it feels natural to be here. Close. Connected.
As though, when we’re apart, gravity is constantly urging us back together.
“So,” I force out, already rethinking my own rule. “What now?”
“Straight to it, huh? I think I’m starting to see the problem,” he says.
“Sorr—”
Charlie cups my cheek and traps my lips with his thumb, stunning me into silence.
“No apologies. That’s my rule.”
When his thumb strokes my bottom lip, I resist the urge to dart my tongue out to taste him. As if he can tell just how affected I am, he slows down, taking his time and lighting my body up.
It’s been so long since anyone touched me like this.
“Your kissing rule, does it apply everywhere?” he asks, gaze firmly on my lips.
It should. It would certainly be the smarter option. Charlie’s mouth is trouble enough without the imprint of his lips on my skin.
But temptation is a cunning beast.
“No,” I breathe. “Everywhere else is good.”
“Good.” Before I know what’s happening, he’s sucking a mark on my throat, and I have to grip his arms to keep myself standing.
The best part of living in a studio apartment is that my bed is ten steps away at any given moment, and Charlie proves himself very clever as he quickly and quietly gets us there.
“Strip down to your underwear,” he orders, sending a thrill through me. “Then lie down.”
He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows as I do as I’m told. He’s gearing up for something, preparing himself, and I’m grateful he’s not making light of this. I told him I wanted to let go, and he’s taking that seriously.
“Jesus fucking Christ, those are sexy,” he says, appraising my lingerie, his blue eyes burning into me. “Where are these toys of yours?”
Heat spreads through me as I pull my lipstick vibe out from under the covers.
Charlie gives me a wicked smile. “Anything else?”
“There’s a box under the bed.”
Propped up on my elbows, I lie back and wait while he finds it, takes a look, nods to himself. That’s it. No indication of what he’s thinking. Just the rapidly rising sound of my heartbeat in my ears while he puts the box back and stands over me.
“You ever use that with someone else around?”
I’m still holding my vibrator, doing my best not to let my hand tremble. “No.”
“Good. I’ll be your first.” The bed dips at my feet as he kneels on the mattress, and although he isn’t touching me yet, the weight of him above me, covering me, is palpable. I shiver as he runs his palms up my legs. “Show me.”
All the nerves I’ve been holding back come rushing forward, like a wave of fans rushing the stage, screaming for my attention.
This is what I wanted . He’s directing me. Taking control. I need to lie back and do what he says. He’s not here for himself.
“You’re thinking too hard.” He leans down, places a gentle kiss on my knee, then the other one. “Relax.” He runs his hands down my calves gingerly, soothing me. His palms are soft and warm. “Do I need to distract you?”
Yes. “Please.”
It’s simultaneously too quiet and too loud.
The bed dips again as he stands. I reach out to stop him, but quickly pull my hand back. Christ, he’s right. I need to relax.
Then he places a small black speaker on the bureau, and music fills the room.
“Of course you have a sex playlist,” I say, but I’m smiling.
“I’m a man of many talents.”
I sure hope so.
“Close your eyes,” he says as he lowers himself back to the mattress and lies beside me.
I obey.
Our soft breaths mingle in the quiet, and then tingles flood my skin as he starts to touch me.
Starting at my shoulder, he runs his hand along my arm, down to my hand, before guiding it and the toy between my legs.
This probably won’t even work, and isn’t that more embarrassing?
Even the smooth bass and seductive tones of the music aren’t enough to drown out the pounding of my racing heart.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” he says, his voice a low caress. “Show me what you like.”
With a deep breath, I turn it on.
The buzzing is suddenly louder than it’s ever been. Has it always been this deafening? I hold the vibe against my clit, but I’m too aware of the air hitting my skin and Charlie next to me, watching.
Maybe this was a mistake.
“I feel like I’m watching a medical exam,” he says.
I’m so frustrated it shocks a laugh out of me. “Fuck you,” I say, but I’m smiling too hard to sell it. The tension begins to bleed out of my shoulders.
With a click, I turn the toy off and look at him.
He’s smiling back. “Maybe next time. I’ve got a better idea.”
Then he’s sitting up and undoing his tie, slipping it off slow and sexy. He looks so damn good like this I think he just rebooted my nervous system.
“You know, you’re not as subtle as you think you are,” he says, straddling me, his tie wrapped around one hand. “I’ve seen you looking. You like the red ones especially.” He touches the inside of my elbows, trails his fingertips to my wrists, leaving goose bumps like breadcrumbs along his path. “Have you’ve pictured it?” he asks, trapping my wrists above my head, clamped in his grip. Charlie leans down, so close he could kiss me.
So close.
But he doesn’t.
“You have, haven’t you?” He wraps the tie loosely around my wrists. “Tied up, completely at my mercy.” Still holding tight, he drags his lips along my jaw. “I bet you’re getting wet just thinking about it.”
I’m lucky to remember my own name right now, with his low growl in my ear, the heat of him blanketing me.
I want him. I’ve done everything I could to ignore it, but I can’t. Not now.
“Please,” I beg, even though I don’t know what I’m asking for.
“Shh,” he whispers, freeing my wrists and sitting up. Immediately, I want him back, but he doesn’t go far, slipping the tie over my eyes instead.
“Good?” he asks.
Yes, it’s good. It’s exactly what I wanted.
I nod, and then his weight disappears. A moment later, his heat returns at my side as he lies down.
“Now. Make yourself come for me.”
This time, I ignore the buzz of the toy, focusing instead on the feel of it, the hundreds of times I’ve done this before.
It’s better. I tease my clit with the tip, running the flared edge over the lace of my underwear, exploring every inch of my pussy. The tension seeps away, and I spread my legs wider and slowly writhe against my hand.
Charlie ghosts his lips over my shoulder, the sensation shocking me back to reality.
I pull the vibe away, leaving my clit throbbing.
“I thought you were only going to watch.”
His lips brush my ear. “And I thought you wanted me in charge.”
He’s right. With a shuddering breath, I relax. “I do.”
“Then, respectfully,” he whispers, and the butterflies start up again, “shut up and let me work,” he says, throwing my own words back at me with a smile I can’t see but know in my bones is there.
This time he isn’t tentative as he trails wet kisses along my neck. The nick of teeth against his earlier mark pulls a whimper from me, and I twist my free hand in the sheet.
Oh, fuck. Yes. That works. That really works.
I glide the vibrator across my clit with a whimper.
With a low, rumbling hum, he lays his palm on my collarbone, a steady weight. My throat sits in the curve of his hand, barely touching. But the pressure and breadth of his skin against my chest calls to me, calms me.
With my eyes covered, he could be anyone, but it’s hard to picture anyone else while I’m surrounded by the deep, cool scent of his cologne.
I moan as Charlie mouths down my chest, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. It’s hot and wet, and I arch my back, desperate for more.
“That’s it,” he purrs, pulling my leg over his, spreading me further. He leaves his hand on my thigh, not close enough to touch my pussy but enough that I want him to.
He continues to touch me, never where I can predict it. Fuck, it’s wildly sexy.
I focus on breathing, on the slow movement of his fingers along my side, up my arm, then back again. New tingles start, good ones, running up and down my spine, until I can’t stop writhing. I want more. I need more.
It takes me all the way to the cliff edge, but as I hover and hover and hover at the peak, willing my body to just fall, go over , do it… I can’t.
Like always, it’s there, just out of reach, mocking me.
Every breath is thick, hot, like trying to inhale smoke. My lungs are squeezed, and all I want to do is get some space so I can take a breath. I drop my head back against the pillow with a frustrated thud, and I point my fear away from him so Charlie won’t see it.
Why does this always have to happen?
It’s the closest I’ve ever come to climaxing with someone else, like standing on one side of an unlocked door I can’t open. All I have to do is move. But I can’t. I’m frozen in place, on the precipice, frustrated.
I want to cry. Scream. Find the receipt for this broken body and demand a refund. I settle for turning the toy off and throwing it to the side.
I hate this.
I was so close.
“Why?” I ask, desperate.
Why can’t I come like this?
Why can’t this part of me work the way I want it to?
There’s so much noise in my head— stop; don’t stop; tell him to leave; oh god, he’s going to hate me; shut up and pretend; why did I even ask for this? —that for a second, I don’t realize Charlie has removed the tie and covered me with the sheet.
I blink up at his face. His eyes are creased in concern, jumping around mine, searching for something, and, oh god, he’s gorgeous like this. Hair ruffled, lips red.
My frustrated clit throbs.
Yeah, yeah. Get in line. We’re all disappointed at this turn of events.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he says, as serious as when he’s debating with me about document categories. If I wasn’t still so keyed up, I’d probably laugh.
“Okay, I won’t.”
It’s only when his trademark smile slips back into place that I exhale my relief.
When his gaze drops to my mouth, my breath catches. I want his lips back on me. I want to watch as he teases marks into my pale skin. But I say nothing.
Charlie clears his throat and rolls away.
At first, I’d put it down to bad sex.
Then the data stacked up, and I realized the common denominator was me.
Sometimes, I warn men beforehand, but mostly I’ve learned not to, because when I do, they either think I’m being coy, or they think I’m playing a game.
If it is a game, it’s a terrible one where everyone loses.
And they tried. Really, they did. But that always made it worse.
The way they’d look up at me, doing their absolute best, eyes hopeful, then dejected, then annoyed.
I couldn’t stand it.
Making them the focus became the easier option. Make them come before they get frustrated and wave them off afterward. Say I’m tired. Send them home.
So when Charlie stands at the foot of my bed, heel of one hand dug into the base of his erection, I hold my breath, waiting for him to ask me to return the favor.
He doesn’t.
Neither of us speaks while I slip into fresh clothes. My gut is churning with a tension I can’t work out how to address. How do I say “thank you for trying to give me an orgasm”? Is there a card?
I’m still working it over in my head when I find Charlie packed up and standing by the door. Right. Of course he isn’t going to stay. Why would he?
“Usually, I’d give you one last breathtaking kiss before leaving, but uh,” he says as he scratches the back of his neck. “I guess that’s off the table.”
I swallow down the urge to put it back on the table. And then throw myself on there, too, and give tonight another go.
Me and my ridiculous rules.
“I guess so.”
He turns to leave, and I can’t let that be it. Not if I have any hope of sleeping tonight.
“Wait,” I croak out. “I wanted to say thank you for tonight.” It’s exactly as awkward as I expected it to be, but he’s been so cool about all of this, and truthfully, I can’t imagine anyone else would be. “It was good, really good, before…”
He leans in and softly kisses my cheek. God, he smells amazing. “Pleasure was all mine, trust me.”
I run out the battery on my vibrator after he’s gone.