Chapter 4 #3
By now, I was used to letting men go where dating was concerned.
Work always came first. I had no time to go out with the girls to the bar, no time to date, dashing from one shift at the coffee shop to another catering gig.
Shower, sleep, rinse and repeat, from sunup to sundown.
I found it was easier to keep most people—and especially guys—at a distance when I knew I couldn’t make myself available.
I suppose I’d gotten comfortable with deprivation.
“It was great to meet you, Charles.” I slipped out of his grasp and headed for the door.
Someday, when I had my feet under me, I’d date to my heart’s content and find someone great. Bring home a charming man with come-hither eyes. Meeting a great guy at the wrong time meant he wasn’t Mr. Right.
Outside, the snow had finally stopped. It had left several inches of perfect, undisturbed powder that blanketed the quaint town and created mounds on top of buried cars. The icy crystals sparkled beneath twinkling lights, and a clear sky of infinite stars.
Back at The Snowdrift Inn, the reception desk was vacant and most of the lights downstairs were off, except for a few strategically placed lamps to light the way upstairs.
In my room, I peeled off my clothes and headed to the bathroom to jump in the shower.
I put on my pajamas and brushed my teeth.
As I rubbed in some body lotion, I heard the door to the next room open and shut, and the sounds of someone rustling around on their side of the wall.
I hurried to finish up in the bathroom and was reaching for the handle on my side of the room, just as my neighbor opened the door on theirs.
“Well . . .” Charles wore a loose T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms that hung low on his narrow hips. “I think this is a sign, don’t you?”
His eyes smoldered, his smile all mischief and desire.
“This just isn’t fair,” I sighed, utterly defeated.
“Technically,” he said, “you followed me. I’m pretty sure I checked in first.”
“Guess you’ve got me there.”
One-night stands weren’t usually my thing, but there was something about Charles. I didn’t know what. An easy, undeniable gravity that pulled me in from across the room. Like the second I got trapped in this town, I was helpless to escape him.
“So . . .” He leaned over me until I was pressed against the doorframe. “What do we do about this?”
It felt like he could sense my stomach doing flips, nervous acrobatics while he sat in the audience, smirking with a box of popcorn.
It almost made me hate him a little. Because I didn’t like feeling out of control, and this guy was making me want to do all kinds of things against my better judgment.
I tried for aloof. “Oh, I’m done in the restroom, so it’s all yours.”
Charles chuckled. “How about a game?”
“A game?” I snorted. “I think it’s a little late for Scrabble.”
His mouth pulled into a teasing smirk. “I was thinking more like cards.”
“You want to play cards?” I repeated, incredulous. “It’s like, 2 a.m.”
“Come on. One game? Maybe I’ll even let you win.”
I scoffed. “Let me? What would I win?”
His grin grew wider. “Lady’s choice.”
I could feel any remaining self-control slipping away. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for some fun, two people just passing through, never to cross paths again. Clean. Simple.
“Alright,” I said, pulse thrumming. “But you have to call me Elle.”
I’m not sure which one of us leaned in first, but our lips finally met right there in the bathroom doorway.
His kiss was gentle as he cupped the side of my face, then combed his fingers through my hair.
I lifted slightly on my toes and wound my arms around his neck, liking the way we fit together in this moment, made all the more romantic by the spontaneity.
The recklessness. I wasn’t thinking, just reacting to him and the way my body swayed in his direction.
Charles pulled back then, resting his forehead against mine as we stood in the soft glow of the bathroom light. I glanced up into his shimmering eyes as his lips pulled into a slight smirk.
“Huh,” he said.
“Huh?”
His smile drew wider. “Yeah.”
I shoved playfully at his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Charles shrugged. “It means forget the cards. Let me try that again.”
With both hands, he pulled my hips against his.
When his lips met mine again, they were hungry, our breathing becoming deep and rushed.
I pulled us toward my room as we fumbled through the doorway, each step increasing my impatience.
Maybe it was those mulled ciders, or just the way he smelled, but I felt my entire body flush with urgency.
And as his mouth became more forceful against mine, I knew he felt the same need.
Charles walked me toward the bed, where I crawled backward to the headboard.
He sat back on his heels a moment and pulled his shirt over his head.
His smooth, chiseled chest heaved with each breath.
My eyes wandered down his abs to the drawstring tied at the top of his pajama pants as he leaned over me, parting my legs.
“Your eyes have a little green in them,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine.
It was the strangest thing to say, and yet somehow romantic. Disarming. I rarely felt so seen by another person.
As our tongues met, I untied his drawstring then dragged my hands over his abs, skimming soft skin and the firm ridges of his muscles.
His lips explored my neck, my chest, as I melted into his touch and surrendered to the moment. I let him lift my T-shirt over my head and watched his eyes sweep over my naked form. His gaze was admiring, almost reverent.
“You’re staring,” I said, excited and still a little nervous.
“Can you blame me? You’re gorgeous.”
Again, our mouths met, and I had the oddest sense of familiarity with him.
The way our tongues anticipated each other wasn’t like two strangers, but lovers reunited.
He hitched my leg up around his hips and pressed himself between my legs, letting me feel his erection.
My head sunk deeper into the feathery pillows while my hands learned the ways his muscles flexed in his back.
I felt his heart beating against my chest like an echo.
His warm mouth left mine to seek my breasts, palming one in his hand while his tongue teased the other.
He took his time to stir my nerves into a frenzy of anticipation, while I clung on to anything I could find.
His shoulders. His hair. Hands fumbling for purchase to steady myself, like going over the peak of a rollercoaster. Weightless.
When Charles raised his head from my chest, I tried to coax his lips back to mine.
Instead, he slid lower, kissing between my breasts.
He slowly grazed his mouth down my stomach, peppering the heated, sensitive skin with gentle kisses until he glanced up at me for confirmation, before hooking two fingers into the waistband of my underwear to pull it free of my legs.
I watched as he spread open my knees to settle between them, kissing a line down each thigh before meeting my center with his tongue.
My eyes drifted shut while my hands clutched at the sheets and my hips rolled to meet every movement of his mouth.
In those moments, I forgot myself entirely.
For the first time in ages, nothing else mattered.
Not London or ACE . Not my dwindling bank account.
Least of all the job I may not even have tomorrow.
I was entirely consumed with Charles, with how he lured my body closer to ecstasy.
And when I couldn’t wait any longer, I pushed his pajama pants down to free him from the fabric, too impossibly turned on not to have him inside me.
I took his hand, sucking one finger, then placing him between my legs to feel me.
Charles groaned against my lips, moving his hand up and down softly and steadily.
Then, when I bit his lip, he found my entrance and pushed forward, setting my body on fire.