63. Noah #4
Charlie fumbles, pressing the unmute button.
“I can probably...” Her sentence ended in a choked gasp as I drove into her hard.
She muted the phone again instantly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck... oooo...” A fine tremor takes hold of her entire body, her inner walls beginning their sweet, familiar convulsions around my shaft.
“Charlotte? Are you there?”
Somehow, through the haze of her rising orgasm, she finds the button.
Her voice is strained and high pitched. “Give me an hour. I’ll meet you there.
Love you, bye!” She ended the call and the phone clattered onto the sheets.
“Fuck you,” she breathed, her head falling back onto the pillow.
“Fuck, yes! Mmmm.” She pants as the climax she’d been fighting finally claims her.
“Oh my god! Don’t stop. On my god! Fuck yes!
” Her pussy clamps down on my swollen dick and her brittle pants and moans fill our room.
I kept my rhythm, riding out her climax with her. “Baby!” she cried out, her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust. I fall to the crease of her neck and bite down gently as my own climax detonates, a blinding, searing rush that empties me into her clutching heat.
“Fuck, Charlie!” I pour inside her. Every ounce of fucking cum fills her.
“You always feel so fucking good,” I groan against her skin, my voice ragged.
“I love you.” My lips trail softly over the faint mark my teeth had left, peppering her neck with gentle kisses as my dick gives a few last, throbbing pulses inside her.
The sunlight is too bright in this little dinner, or it could be my salty attitude of exhaustion.
But then again the sun reflects off every polished surface, silverware glinting, the white tablecloths burning my retinas.
A plate of avocado toast is placed in front of me and I think I died and went to heaven.
I’m already drooling. I run my tongue over my lips with that toast eyeballing me saying eat me.
Charlie’s mother watches me attack the toast like my life depends on it.
The toast is way too crunchy. I can feel the edges scrape the inside of my mouth, and I’m pretty sure I look like every guy I promised I would never become – some pussy douchebag who thinks avocado toast is a personality trait.
I try to smile at her mother, which only makes me realize there’s probably green mush stuck in my teeth. I reach for my water and take a big drink, hoping to wash the humiliation down with it.
Charlie’s sitting across from me, her fork stabbing halfheartedly into her pancakes. Her mom holds her mug like she’s debating what she wants to say. When she finally speaks, her tone is gentle. “Have you thought about coming home?” She sips her coffee.
Charlie sets her fork down. “No. I’m going on tour with Noah.”
Her mother blinks slowly. “Honey, you haven’t finished college. You're barely in your second semester as a freshman. You could take your classes online from home. You don’t need to stay in those dorms, or his apartment. You’d be safe with me.”
Charlie’s jaw tightens. “I already signed up for online classes. I can do them while we travel.”
Then her mother turns her attention to me. “Living with a man you’re not married to isn't appropriate. I’m not an idiot.” Her eyes zero in on me.
“Stop looking at him like that.” Charlie defends and I’m silent. I’d pitch in, but that’s not my place. Instead I pick up my glass of water, my tongue playing with the straw to gather it up in my mouth.
“He’s covered head to toe with ink.”
“Just because he has tattoos doesn’t make him any less of a person.”
“At least tell me you're using protection?”
I choke on my water so hard I nearly die in front of them.
Charlie thumps my back while I cough on those words that came out of her mothers mouth.
Shit. We don’t use protection, and we haven’t and I guess I would’ve assumed Charlie was on birth control, but that hasn’t really been a conversation between us.
“Oh my god,” she mutters. “Charlotte, you cannot just be sleeping around with...”
Charlie cuts her off. “What Noah and I do behind closed doors is none of your business.”
The table goes silent. Her mother sets her coffee down with a soft clink. “You two shouldn’t be living together playing house when you aren’t ready to be a mother.”
“I’m not going to get pregnant.”
“You don’t know that,” her mother argues. “You realize you're in mortal sin and if you don’t fix it you're going to hell.”
There it is. Classic manipulation. I didn’t plan to say anything.
I didn’t think I was going to say anything at all.
But the words come out of me before I even realize I’ve spoken.
“Fine,” I say, casually, like it’s the easiest decision in the world.
“We’ll get married.” Both of them stare at me.
Charlie’s eyebrows crunch together, and her mother’s mouth just drops.
“I’ll call the church tomorrow.” The waiter walking by actually stops moving, shaking her head as if to clean out her ear.
I take another bite of toast. The crunching is the only sound I hear.
I wipe the avocado off my mouth with a napkin.
“Sorry,” I say. “I know I’m a mess. I just really like avocado toast.”